


Atlas

by jaehwandred



Series: atlas universe [1]
Category: K-pop, VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Angst, Fantasy, Humor, M/M, SO, Slow Burn, at least i'm having fun, but hey, but i have no self control so this fic got way longer than i intended, honestly based off more percy jackson, i can't write for shit, i once classified this as a medium burn fic, than actual greek mythology
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-08-11 11:18:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 118,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7889533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaehwandred/pseuds/jaehwandred
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fate has a funny way of haunting Lee Jaehwan. (Also known as the story in which Han Sanghyuk haunts him for the rest of his living days.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It began at night.

Jaehwan’s eyes shot open only to be met with a darkness so heavy he might as well have been blind.

But he was no stranger to the darkness. He felt the gravelly earth beneath his bare feet, his fingers trailed along hard, jagged rock. Spots of water dripped slowly from the cave’s roof, dampening his grey-streaked black hair as he slowly made his way through the labyrinth of dead ends and winding turns.

The moonlight seeped slowly into the cave until he emerged into a night with a moon glowing as bright as the sun in the east.

The night air was a welcome comfort from the realm of the living. The mortals turned to the sun, letting its warm rays sink into their skin. Jaehwan had always been a child of the stars and the moon. Fine sand sifted between his toes as he inhaled deeply, the tang of sea salt in the air, filling his lungs.

Death could not hold Jaehwan for long. He was no stranger to the world through its centuries, dying and reborn again, slipping through the clutches of the afterlife.

“Son of Hades,” a deep voice rolled from behind Jaehwan, like the tumbling waves of the ocean below. He knelt.

—

_“You don’t have to do this, Taekwoon,” gasped Jaehwan, panic clawing at his chest even as he could feel himself choking on his blood. He should have known that if it were to end in a fight, it would have ended like this. Taekwoon always fought dirty, exploiting every bit of knowledge he possessed to outmaneuver his opponent into the ground. His victims never left him in one piece._

_He was a fool to have believed that Taekwoon would have mercy on him._

_He flinched as a sword cleaved through the air, pinning the fabric of his sleeve to the ground, a millimeter away from his flesh. “Please, you knew I had to stop you, I didn’t have a choice—”_

_“Cease,” Taekwoon snapped, all fierceness and knives but Jaehwan could see him shaking against the silhouette of the burning pines._

_“You are mad,” spat Jaehwan, “You know nothing but your own power.”_

_Taekwoon loomed above him, brandishing his other sword, a sword of celestrial bronze that was once a weapon of the people and now a harbinger of destruction. “And you are a fool,” he said quietly, his tone indiscernible, “You always have been.”_

_“Better a fool than a tyrant,” Jaehwan retorted, his voice barely a whisper above the crackle of the flames but he knew Taekwoon heard it, his thunderous features twisting in anger. “You never knew your own limits, look at what you have become.”_

_“Cease,” Taekwoon snapped again, a storm in his voice, “You should have known you would pay the price.”_

_Jaehwan cried out weakly in pain, any plea dying in his throat, his head thumping against the ground as cruel steel slid across his throat. His arm convulsed weakly, a last attempt to push the other off of him._

_The thing about dying was that the pain overwhelmed him so quickly that he became numb. First the feeling in the tips of his fingers vanished, then his arms, then his legs. His heart fought the valiant fight, raging against death, then faltering slowly. The world blurred before his eyes and he was left only with the image of a single shed tear on Taekwoon’s stricken face._

He bolted upright in his bed, his chest tight with the fear that smothered him. His breathing echoed through the room until the walls became smaller and smaller. He buried his head in his trembling hands, silently willing himself to regain control of his own world.

It was centuries ago that he had died at his best friend’s hand and yet the dreams still returned in every lifetime, every time his soul touched the earth. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe.

“Jaehwan?”

He flinched despite himself as the door to his bedroom creaked open. He forced himself to relax. It was Hongbin, just Hongbin.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly, as he did every time, even though he already knew the answer.

Jaehwan shook his head mutely, sitting up and clutching his pillow to his chest. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he whispered, not wanting to wake Wonsik up too.

“I keep telling you that you can have a sleep potion,” Hongbin chided gently, coming in to sit on the edge of his bed, “Having one once in awhile won’t hurt you, you know.”

He shrugged, the motion jerky, “It’s fine, I’ve never been able to sleep well anyways but I don’t usually wake up from them. Just— you get used to it, I suppose.”

“Just because you’re used to these dreams all the time doesn’t mean you have to keep dealing with them,” Hongbin twisted to look at him, the concern in his eyes genuine and borne of years of having to stay up with a shaking Jaehwan, unable to speak, “Jaehwan, I’ve been taking sleep potions to get rid of my dreams and I haven’t had any side effects from them. I don’t want you to drive yourself crazy over this again.”

Jaehwan pressed his lips together. It was different for Hongbin. What he saw in his sleep were probably images, fleeting messages from the gods. Hongbin was a Son of Hecate with an uncannily sharp eye for magic but his time on earth had been relatively free from the horrors of war and the bane of unstopped death. Jaehwan’s dreams were byproducts of the memories that he chased away during the day. The longer he overstayed his welcome on earth, the worse the dreams became. The longer he lived, the more time the past had to catch up to him.

Still, it wouldn’t do to worry Hongbin any further. “You fuss too much over me,” he said with a weak smile, “You really are the mom I never asked for.”

Hongbin threw a pillow lightly at Jaehwan’s head who squawked in indignation. “Ingrate,” he said smoothly, rising from the bed in a quick motion, “Fine, suit yourself. It’s almost dawn, anyways. The real world calls,” he sighed, “Go wake Wonsik up and I’ll worry about breakfast.”

“Yes, mother,” Jaehwan sing-songed, laughing sleepily at the glare Hongbin sent him.

The early morning light spilled into his room and onto his low set bed, his blanket rumpled and his pillow sliding off the edge. The walls were a collage of post it notes, sheet music, and travel posters, a messy sort of charm that Jaehwan had always favored. He liked to think of his room as organized chaos. His favorite olive green jacket lay draped over a chair with a pile of his laundry and a stack of his favorite books lay on the floor when, really, they should have been in their proper place on his white Ikea bought bookshelves.

On the contrary, Wonsik’s room was just chaos. There was nothing organized about it, Jaehwan thought, as he picked his way across strewn piles of laundry, loose notebook papers, and his Macbook on the ground beside his bed, not even charged. “Rise and shine!” Jaehwan announced, his voice reaching a decibel level not quite appropriate for 6:15 AM.

It took a moment and a half for him to react. Wonsik always took an absurdly long time to be even vaguely functioning in the morning. “Why are you like this?” Wonsik groaned, rolling over and away from Jaehwan.

“Maybe if you reacted to your alarm clock like any normal human being, we wouldn’t have this problem,” he said breezily as he strode over, throwing the windows open, hoping that the sudden influx of light was enough to wake him up.

Wonsik only groaned louder at that, rolling over and pulling the pillow over his head.

Jaehwan was about to make another remark when he stilled suddenly, peering out the window.

His sleep addled mind struggled to process the strange sight before him. For just a moment, two twin suns rose slowly in tandem. He blinked again and night and day converged, inky navy swallowing a blue midday sky. Then a pair of slitted eyes staring at him from beyond the field of drought thirsty wildflowers. Then nothing.

Jaehwan blinked rapidly, rubbing at his eyes and turned decidedly away. An illusion, nothing more.

—

The shop sign flipped and Elysium Funeral Services was officially in business for the day.

That was how the mortals saw it, anyways. It was rare that any normal human came to them for business but once in a blue moon, the only funeral planning service in the vicinity of Lake Arrowhead was called upon for business with Lee Jaehwan seamlessly helping families lay their loved ones to rest. The other 95% of the time, Elysium Funeral Services was a display window hiding a shop of magical services, serving demigods from near and far alike.

A morbidly cheery sign in the front read “50% off Fiberglass Caskets” to mortals and “50% off Celestial Bronze Weaponry” to demigods. Between the three of them, they were able to cater to the small town with their various talents. Hongbin served as the town’s resident magician, with spells and potions abound. Wonsik, a son of Hephaestus, a talented blacksmith, was always able to fashion something out of nothing.

Jaehwan was a bit of a special case. Being the son of the god of the underworld came with an unfortunate amount of social stigma. Only the most desperate of demigods would come requesting his services, a last conversation with a loved one that had passed on or some would even pay to know the status of a beloved’s soul. It was easy work, certainly, but Jaehwan wasn’t very fond of being cooped up in a shop.

The brisk mountain air was a welcome wake up call. Even with the heavy, dry air of the Californian drought, the smell of pine needles still saturated the air and the birdsong remained a quiet hum in the back of his mind.

Hongbin and Wonsik were usually too busy with customers to run errands so it fell to Jaehwan to collect groceries, drop mail off, and deposit money. He could have taken the car, but the romantic notion of an idyll walk won out.

His worn sneakers traveled the dirt path that lead away from their driveway and through the short stretch of forest that lead to the closest village of Arrowhead.

Time tended to blur in the rare times he found himself in the solitude of nature. No matter what changed about him through the decades, the pines stood steady against the test of time and the river, although weakened by the lack of water, still bubbled happily on. In times before, Taekwoon would have teased him, his voice playing like a broken record that his mind kept tucked away, You brood too much, always disappearing into the woods without me. Sacred memories kept alive in his mind, a sacred version of Taekwoon untainted by reality.

Immortality was lonely. Well, Jaehwan wasn’t immortal but he had been alive long enough for the passing of friends and lovers to wear him down to a quiet and subdued version of himself that even he wasn’t fond of. He could still recall the old Jaehwan who was so quick to love and be loved.

But life after life, he watched them go, only to continue on without them. His habits were odd, perhaps, but they kept him alive. He kept the voices close to his soul, kept himself alive with memories. He was made of them.

—

The village was quiet.

The leaves crunched under the weight of Jaehwan’s shoe. Sloped rooftops, neat window displays, and cobbled streets stood without any inhabitants. He knew that the summer season was always much quieter than the ever busy winter season but still, in the years past, it had never been this quiet.

The plight of disappearing mortals had finally struck his village too. He had read about it in the news. It wasn’t the kind of catastrophic disaster that was big enough to make national headlines. Instead, it was the quiet report of a teenage boy missing after biking home after a night spent at a friend’s house. Then the next day his neighbor’s husband vanished without a trace in the middle of sprucing up their garden. It was an invisible plague that hopped from village to village, plucking its victims from their home and without a face to stop, there was nothing anyone could do.

He wouldn’t have normally cared but years of establishing a homestead here had made him rather fond of the village. Its twinkling Christmas lights and ongoing gingerbread house competitions had drawn him in the first year Hongbin and Wonsik convinced him to leave the house and attend the village’s Christmas festival.

Even the few demigods that lived here harbored much less fear toward him than their city counterparts. Most, if not all, of the regular employees manning the few shops knew him by name and that he always liked his iced macchiatos with light ice. It was, in many ways, an extension of his home. Hongbin would tease him for being too soft if he ever said it out loud but a small part of his heart belonged to the townsfolk who cherished the simple lives they had built for themselves away from highways and skyscrapers.

Jaehwan passed under the archway and into the village but remained the lone soul on the road that divided the two rows of shops.

It was odd to be roaming the village at this hour without passer-bys wishing him a cheery “good morning” and wishing him well on his way.

A lone hound bayed mournfully in the distance, breaking the steely quiet. The weathervane spun slowly, metal grating against metal, a shrill and ugly sound.

He slipped his phone out of his pocket, idly swiping away at the screen, giving into the illusion of business to shake off the irrational feeling of being followed, despite the fact that he was all alone. He never considered himself overly paranoid but after the strangeness of the morning’s visions, he couldn’t help the vague feeling of unease that settled uncomfortably in his stomach.

Phantom footsteps in the wind ran across cobblestone, carrying with them the distant sound of children laughing. He glanced nervously over his shoulder. No one there. He shook his head sharply, rubbing at his temple. A side effect of his current state of sleep deprivation, that was all.

A shop sign creaked in the wind, swaying gently. A music box trilled softly in the distance, haunting notes to a sonata floating one by one.

Jaehwan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. He was just being paranoid. Probably. Hopefully. A shadow flickered in the corner of his eye. He turned quickly to the right. The empty space stood before him, mocking him for his vigilance.

A shop sign creaked in the wind, swaying gently.

No, something was following him.

The wind stilled. The leaves rustled anyways.

Jaehwan clenched his fists to his side, whoever or whatever it was would have to deal with a faceful of stygian iron if they truly thought they could sneak up on him.

The pitter patter of little feet and a child’s shriek. He turned quickly behind him. Nothing. The wind rushed by so loudly that it sounded like the roar of a waterfall. Jaehwan turned and stared at the end of the road.

A figure shimmered at the far reaches of his vision, blurred as if he were viewing them through an intense heat wave. Two slitted eyes stared down at him, into his soul, picking him apart through his memories and hopes and fears.

Then like a vision, it was gone. And Jaehwan was left staring at the end of the road again, a lonely soul.

_Watch your back, kid._

—

Jaehwan wasn’t taking his chances. He wasn’t going to fuck with any supernatural forces that didn’t even seem to have a physical form that he could fight. Shadow traveling wasn’t something he was particularly good at, but the encounter with the strange figure coupled with the cryptic vision of the morning was more than enough reason for him to forego the walk home.

He materialized out of the shadows, dropping off an armful of groceries on the kitchen table. The shop was devoid of Hongbin chattering away without any customers so that could only mean that the two were in the back room. He knocked quietly on the doorframe before pushing past the curtain dividing the main shop and the back room, praying quietly to the gods above that the two hadn’t decided that Jaehwan leaving for an errand was enough time to engage in heathen activities such as fornication.

To his relief, they were doing no such thing. Instead, Hongbin was hunched over a wooden bowl, inscribed with runes and scenes of battle, a scrying bowl.

The dark liquid withheld its secrets from Jaehwan and Wonsik, not possessing any magical aptitude beside their powers but for Hongbin, it was a window into the past, present, and future.

“Is business really slow enough to start scrying before lunch?” Jaehwan asked, taking a seat.

Wonsik frowned at him, vaguely gesturing with his hands, “The only customers that came in this morning have just stopped by to express concern over the disappearing mortals. They think that we’re the most powerful demigods in the area. I guess some of them were hoping that we’d do something about it.”

“Are we? Doing something about it, I mean. If we are, I can finally cross out my good deed for the decade,” Jaehwan said.

Wonsik looked torn between exasperation and amusement, a common mix of emotions around him. He pointed to Hongbin, whose eyes were glassy and whose soul wasn’t currently in their plane of existence, “We’re trying.”

They could do nothing more than idly wait for Hongbin to return to them.

Jaehwan had nearly passed out from holding his breath the first couple of times Hongbin scryed. Hongbin always required one person to be present in the room with him in case of something going terribly wrong, as things sometimes do when your soul is separated from your person and left to wander in a state of nothing. But thankfully, Hongbin was a more powerful magician than sometimes he gave him credit for. Nowadays, Hongbin pulling out the scrying bowl was mostly done to satiate his curiosity or boredom and a routine occurrence.

But still, it was always a little unsettling to be sitting in a small room with what seemed like Hongbin’s empty corpse.

“How long has he been scrying?” asked Jaehwan.

Wonsik glanced at his watch, mouth twisted into a small frown, “I dunno, thirty minutes or so.”

“Is he supposed to be in there for that long? He’s usually not gone for more than five or ten minutes, right?”

“No,” a beat of hesitation, “but it’s Hongbin, I think he’ll be alright. Probably.”

He spoke too soon. It was as if the words triggered a curse.

The lights in the room flickered out, then failed altogether. With no windows, the room was plunged into darkness.

Hongbin straightened in his seat slowly, his eyes glowing an unnatural white before the light faded and he gasped, life returning to his body all at once.

“Hongbin what—?”

The scrying bowl hissed, the now malevolent black liquid, simmering at the surface. The same white glow that came from Hongbin’s eyes filled the bowl, diffusing through the darkness and from the bowl came a dark ink that rose into the air. The black twisted and turned in the air, the three of them staring at it, frozen with fascination. They built shadowy figures out of nothing, three women hunched over, their feet tapping in unison to an invisible heartbeat. The eery sound of taloned feet against wood. _Tap, tap. Tap, tap._

The trio froze, each of them glancing in turn at each other, searching for an explanation for the turn of events.

The three women held a ball of ghostly yarn between them, the lady on the right and left humming out of tune with each other. At first, it seemed as if they had nothing to say. Then the mirage of the Fates opened their mouths, speaking in unison, the words filling the room and echoing inside their very heads.

“ _Twin souls fated to return from ash to dust,_  
_In turn time will take its toll, these valiant heroes must_  
_Stand united together or the world will fall_  
_To the immortal beckon of death’s call_ ”

The yarn pulled tense and the one in the middle snipped the thread clean, two ends of the thread of someone’s life falling to the ground with a decisive finality.

The three figures sunk back into the bowl, melting into the ink which reshaped into a bloodshot eye. A deadeye shot. The eye hovered for a moment then shifted once more.

And Jaehwan saw it again, the converging of night and day, the inky dark of stars swallowing the sun whole. The end of time.

The image changed, accompanied by a sharp crack. Jaehwan laying on the ground, his head lolled limply on someone’s lap. There was no sound but somehow, inexplicably, Jaehwan knew that the person was crying, crying for him. He was dead.

It was sudden, too sudden. He felt as if he should have felt more than vague surprise but the Fates were unwilling to give him more time.

The image disappeared.

Then slowly, a ghostly hum filled the room, the energy accruing piece by piece until the air felt fit to explode.

The inky smoke disassembled then re-assembled again as a scene, this time. A desert landscape that expanded and wrapped around the trio and consumed their senses. Six figures rose from the ground, faceless. One held a triton, son of the sea. Another held a lightning bolt, son of the sky. The next held a skull in one hand and the helm of darkness in the other. Son of hell. The other held a nocked bow and arrow. Son of music. The figure standing next to him wielded a hammer and fire. Son of fire. The last stood behind them all, holding a bowl identical to the one on the table. Son of magic.

The smoke flew back into the bowl, the dark liquid in the scrying bowl returning to its original state, harmless and still.

The light in the room slowly crept back in, unsure of its place in the world after being wiped by the unnatural darkness.

Jaehwan could feel the eyes of the other two on him and his own heartbeat thumping in his hollow chest.

Everyone was reluctant to break the silence. To his knowledge, nothing like that had ever happened before. The contents of a scrying bowl were for its viewer to see and no one else. Jaehwan’s mere presence always seemed to be a catalyst for the impossible.

“Well,” Hongbin said, still clearly shaken, “there’s that.”

“What did we just—” Jaehwan began, “Is that what you saw? What you’ve been seeing?”  
Hongbin rubbed at his eyes. With the lights back on, Jaehwan, for the first time, had realized just how haggard he had gotten. The bags under his eyes rivaled Jaehwan’s own, his face drawn and serious.

“The dreams I’ve been having, I thought they were borne of my own fears and I meant to scry to find answers to the problem of the mortals disappearing. I don’t know what that was, it was a prophecy, yes, but I’m not an Oracle,” said Hongbin.

“Maybe the prophecy was meant for our eyes only,” Wonsik proposed.

“It seems that, whatever it is, we are three of the group of six but I should not have seen that. My form of the Sight is very imprecise. I usually only get fuzzy images, impressions, almost, of the future. This was something else,” Hongbin said, his tone agitated.

“How accurate are your visions, usually?” Jaehwan asked cautiously.

Hongbin regarded him. He must have seen something in Jaehwan’s eyes that made him look away.

“I have never been wrong,” he said quietly, his tone heavy, “Jaehwan, tell me, do you still fear death?”

To that, Jaehwan laughed bitterly, no mirth in his voice. “You know the answer to that,” he paused, looking pointedly at Hongbin, “So it’s true, then? I’ll be dead, soon. Permanently this time.”

Wonsik shifted uncomfortably at the thought of that, “Hongbin could be wrong, you never know. This could be a fluke.”

“I don’t know,” Hongbin admitted, wringing his hands, “Perhaps the future can always be changed. I have never personally known anyone that I’ve seen in my visions. If we know what’ll happen, we can avoid it.”

Jaehwan sighed, closing his eyes, “It’s fine, I suppose we’ll deal with that when it comes. What else of the visions? The prophecy, have you heard it before, Hongbin?”

“I’ve heard it in my dreams but I looked it up this morning. There aren’t any existing records of it so if it’s a true prophecy, it’s a new one,” Hongbin said. He rummaged for a moment amongst his stacks of notes before pulling out a torn piece of notebook paper, probably from the notebook that never left his bedside table. “It’s a prophecy about twin souls, similar to the one—”

“The one about me and Taekwoon,” Jaehwan finished the sentence for him.

“But Taekwoon is dead. Has been dead. For centuries. I don’t see how this could apply to you,” Wonsik said, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“I don’t know either but this group of six that you saw. A questing party?” Jaehwan asked, firmly steering the conversation away from any mention of Taekwoon.

“I had started out looking for an answer to the disappearance of all these mortals and instead, I was shown the vision of the six demigods. Then I was returned here. Perhaps it was a way of showing us that the six demigods are the answer,” Hongbin mused.

“Guess the Fates have decided that we’ve been idling around for too long,” Wonsik joked, “It’s too much to ask for a simple life.”

“I’ll be deeply upset if I am called away to actually do something with this life, I am very content with living merrily in the woods with my two closest companions” Jaehwan complained, standing up slowly, “At any rate, I think that we’ve done enough worrying for the day. I say that we just ignore it all and hope it goes away, how’s that for a plan?”

“I think that every time you try to do that, it never works,” Hongbin deadpanned.

“Whatever, I’m going to go make lunch,” Jaehwan said, waving him away, intending to leave his worries behind in the back room. He had plenty of time in his sleepless hours to puzzle over the visions and worry about his now impending doom.

The three of them had barely passed beyond the curtain when the front door of the shop opened, the bell jingling merrily to announce the arrival of a new customer. They turned their heads toward the door, eerily in sync.

The young man walked in with hesitation in his steps and boldness in his eyes. He had tanned skin, black hair tousled by the sea wind. It was as if he brought the ocean with him into the shop, it had been years since he had felt the presence of a demigod as powerful as his.

The trio stoped and stared.

Four.

Son of Hades. Son of Hecate. Son of Hephaestus.

“Son of Poseidon,” Hongbin said, his voice slightly breathless. He spared a glance for the two of them before he just barely composed himself, “What can we do for you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -The Hyuken will happen. Eventually. I swear.  
> -If there are any errors in my knowledge of Greek mythology I am very sorry I am trying my hardest!  
> -You can follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/jaehwandred) and [tumblr](chanstraeus.tumblr.com) for updates and general shenanigans  
> -Comments and kudos are super duper appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

Jaehwan was the first to recover. 

“Son of Poseidon, you say?” He asked, polite curiosity covering up any other emotion as he slipped effortlessly into the persona of the easy and confident Jaehwan that was shown to the rest of the world. He was always the one with the easy words and quick mind. “It’s not like most of you to come seeking trouble in places like this,” he said, with a grandiloquent sweeping gesture, “How may we help you today?”

Hongbin knew better than to think that the winning smile on Jaehwan’s face was real. 

The stranger’s face scrunched up a little, displeased with the sarcasm implied with such grand motions. “I’m not here seeking trouble, actually,” he said stiffly, “I’m here to ask a favor. My friend, Sanghyuk sent me here but I’m not sure if you still even remember that name—” 

“Sanghyuk?” asked Wonsik, perking up, “Haven’t heard that name in years. Last I remember, he was just a kid the last time he came by.”

Hongbin leaned against the wall, tilting his head slightly, “Only person I’ve ever made a house call for. I remember him. I saved his life.” 

The son of Poseidon huffed a short breath of laughter with little real humor in it, “Of course, it’s just like Sanghyuk to forget to mention that. He only mentioned the son of Hades,” he said with a jerk of his head in Jaehwan’s direction. 

“Well, who could blame him?,” Jaehwan said and leaned in, using the kind of conspiratory tone used for sharing secrets amongst friends, “Between you and me, we both know Hongbin is easy to forget and I am both charming and infinitely better looking.” 

Hongbin rolled his eyes.

To Jaehwan’s credit, Hakyeon’s eyes crinkled up slightly in amusement and he was glad for it. The tension of the room lessened — even if it was at his own expense. 

“I apologize for Jaehwan,” Wonsik shot a dirty glare at the person in question but this only seemed to amuse Jaehwan more, “He’s always like this. And I also apologize for not asking you sooner, but it seems a bit odd for us to not know your name.” 

“Ah, it’s— I’m Cha Hakyeon,” he said, lifting his head slightly, a subtle display of pride, “and I’ve come to ask this of you because I know that there are services and a certain expertise that only you three can provide.” His voice was delicate, halting. 

An unwelcome sort of trepidation settled in Hongbin. If he was here to request something illegal or highly dangerous, those days were behind both him and Jaehwan. He wasn’t willing to drag Wonsik into a part of their lives that they had both hidden away.

Hakyeon broke his gaze away from the three of them as he paced the short expanse of the floor. “My partner, Taekwoon, he— he’s disappeared and I have cause to believe he’s been stolen away into the Underworld.”

He pointedly ignored Wonsik’s disbelieving scoff. 

“Pardon me for asking,” Jaehwan said in a fully unapologetic tone, “but does your Taekwoon also happen to be a son of Zeus? Very tall, very brooding, very not into fun and general happiness?” 

Hakyeon stared at him, “Yes? I suppose so— ? But that’s besides the point.” 

“Alright, fine. So suppose we set the Taekwoon issue aside for a moment,” Jaehwan plowed on, pointedly ignoring the way Wonsik and Hongbin glanced uneasily at each other, “If your story checks out, I’m guessing you want us to just, what? Guide you down into the Underworld, waltz in, and just grab your boyfriend and somehow walk right back on out without harm?”

Hakyeon scowled at him. 

Jaehwan raised an eyebrow and stared expectantly back. 

“I have payment,” he said curtly. 

“No amount of money could convince me to take on such a suicidal mission,” Jaehwan said, the dismissal obvious in his voice.

“I have Elysium coins.” 

_That_ shocked Jaehwan effectively into silence, wiping the stubborn expression off his face only to replace it with sheer disbelief. 

Wonsik’s mouth gaped then closed, like a fish out of water. Hongbin probably would have laughed at him if he weren’t so aware of the way Jaehwan went still beside him. 

Under normal circumstances, Jaehwan would have turned his nose up even at the prospect of the illustrious Elysium coins but well, considering what happened behind the curtain less than ten minutes ago, he thought it was safe to say that today was not a day for normal circumstances. 

With the image of the prophecy fresh in all of their minds, even he couldn’t blame Jaehwan for being so entranced with such a prize. It seemed like Jaehwan would do anything in his power to escape the rules and limits of the mortal world. 

“How do we know that you’re not lying?” Hongbin asked, his tone even.

Hakyeon answered that by reaching into his pocket and drawing out a small pouch. He dropped it onto the table with a light _plink_. Hongbin exchanged a swift glance with Jaehwan, a silent question in his eyes, but neither seemed to be able to detect any malevolent magic source coming from the bag. 

Hongbin’s carefully opened the bag, the silken material falling under his touch to reveal three golden coins. To the naked eye, there was nothing out of the ordinary about them. They gleamed a brilliant color, yes, but their engraved scenes only bumped up their value enough to perhaps earn their rightful place in an art museum. 

But Hongbin could feel otherwise. 

The coins vibrated under his hand, straining towards life. The coins felt like Jaehwan. It was the mark of the Underworld, the energy signature that felt like they were objects caught in between death and life. He glanced up only to see that Jaehwan’s expression was carefully shuttered. 

A minute ago he had been prepared to laugh off the stranger, the fact that he was a son of Poseidon be damned. But with this kind of offer on the table, it was clear that Jaehwan had already made up his mind. 

Elysium coins were a rare thing, and though it would be rude to ask Hakyeon how he acquired one, let alone three, he figured he didn’t really want to know the answer to that anyways. It wasn’t good business to question his customer’s morals. 

The Underworld was still a mystery to those whose souls remained firmly planted on earth. Even Jaehwan was unable to grasp the entirety of it. But they had all heard the legends, and in Jaehwan’s case, had seen the Fields of Punishment, the Fields of Asphodel, and of course the sacred spaces of Elysium and the Isles of the Blest.

Elysium was reserved for the greatest of heroes, the kind who were immortalized in songs and constellations. Jaehwan might have been headed to such a blessed place at one point in his life. But now, he was being optimistic if he was looking at spending an eternity as little more than a shade of his former self in the Fields of Asphodel. 

He had good reason to fear death. The limited amount of favoritism he had with his father reached its limits rather quickly. 

But with the Elysium coins, he was guaranteed eternal happiness, and death had suddenly lost its bite. 

Theoretically, even a suicidal mission wasn’t looking too shabby now. 

“I, err,” he cleared his throat, “I rescind my previous statement. Turns out there is a form of payment on this earth that can convince me to do the impossible,” Jaehwan said, blinking down at the coins as if he couldn’t truly believe what he was seeing. 

“So you’ll help me, then?” Hakyeon asked with careful hope. 

Jaehwan opened his mouth but Hongbin held up a hand to stop him, “No, we must discuss this upon ourselves first. I apologize, but this is a rather big service you are asking of us,” he said. 

Hakyeon frowned a little at that, probably disappointed that he had been so close to getting Jaehwan to agree on such reckless terms. Hongbin didn’t really care. 

If he had any chance of deterring Jaehwan from taking on such an absurd quest, he would. Hongbin quickly shepherded the other two into the backroom, quite nearly having to push Jaehwan beyond the curtain.

“Are we actually doing this?” Wonsik hissed as Hongbin busied himself with casting a simple silencing spell so their conversation couldn’t be heard by Hakyeon who waited just outside. 

Hongbin didn’t have to turn to know the look in Jaehwan’s eyes. He was already dead set on getting these Elysium coins whether or not they decided to stand by him. That was the thing about Jaehwan. He had an endless supply of stubbornness and needless conviction, and while general society often viewed those as good traits, Jaehwan just had a tendency to set his mind on things that had the high price tag of mortal danger. 

“Well, I’m going. No offense intended, but I’m the only one that is truly needed in the Underworld and I’m sure my skills will be sufficient enough to keep both Hakyeon and I alive on the journey there. If you two do not wish to come, then I obviously won’t force it upon you,” Jaehwan said, his arms crossed over his chest, “However, I won’t try to lie and say that your company wouldn’t be welcome.” 

“Three coins. He brought enough to pay all of us,” said Hongbin. 

Wonsik’s mouth twisted, “Even so, we’re bound to fail. We haven’t even been able to pinpoint the location of all the mortals that have disappeared and it’s not like it was just one or two of them.” 

“They’re not dead, though,” Jaehwan said, “I would have felt it. I can’t ignore such an influx of souls passing through my father’s realm for judgement. Perhaps this is our first lead on their fates as well. He wouldn’t have come to us if he didn’t think we had a slim chance of succeeding.”

“This Taekwoon he mentioned,” Wonsik cut in, “Could it be possible— ?” 

“I don’t know,” Jaehwan said his expression pensive, “I— He’s been dead for hundreds of years. I think I might have felt it but I— “ he hesitated, chewing on his lower lip, “I don’t know. I don’t know what that’s about.” 

“Well, you _are_ a prime example of the dead not staying dead,” Hongbin pointed out. 

Jaehwan laughed a little at that, but his expression turned somber again, the gears in his mind quickly turning over, “I want those Elysium coins. The prophecy. I’m assuming we’re a part of it. Even if this all does end in my death, what would it matter so long as we had the coins?” 

“You’ve already made up your mind,” observed Wonsik.

“Yes,” Jaehwan said, the single word carrying with it the weight of a decision. 

“Well, I suppose that settles it,” Hongbin sighed, and at Jaehwan’s puzzled look, he added, “Did you really think that you were going without me? I don’t have enough faith in your ability to stay alive without adult supervision.” 

“I am my own adult supervision,” Jaehwan protested indignantly. But he ducked his head shyly, a vague attempt to hide his secret smile. 

“And you, Wonsik?” asked Hongbin. 

“It looks like you two don’t leave me with too much of a choice,” sighed Wonsik, but despite his outward reluctance, Hongbin knew that he would never agree to be left behind.

Jaehwan smiled boyishly at them, like a teenager swept away on the high of sneaking out for the first time. “Looks like I’m finally seeing some solid evidence that I do not indeed possess the two worst friends in the world,” he said, slipping quickly away out of their range before either of the two could threaten him with bodily harm. 

He pushed aside the curtain, re-entering the main shop and Hakyeon’s head snapped up, nervous anticipation holding his breath captive in his chest. 

“We’re in,” Hongbin said without fanfare and Hakyeon’s shoulders dropped, the tension visibly bleeding out of them. 

Hakyeon looked torn between endless gratitude and actually retaining his dignity. Eventually, he settled upon a simple “Thank you.”

Jaehwan shrugged, “Just know that I will try my best to keep you alive and out of trouble, but I can not make any promises. While I am grateful for your payment, I’m not sure that it’s enough to cover most acts of voluntarily risking my life for you.” 

“Understood,” said Hakyeon easily, “I never expected you to. And I think that you’ll find that I’m usually competent enough to make it out of most situations alive.”

“It’s different out there when you’re traveling with a group of demigods rather than by yourself,” explained Jaehwan, “The monsters are more aggressive and more relentless when there’s too much power consolidated in one space. Since we’re both children of the Big Three— “ 

He never finished his sentence. The door swung open with more force than any customer would have used. A man, clearly younger than Hakyeon, walked in, and despite their difference in age, he dwarfed the smaller with his height and frame. The passing of the years didn’t matter. Hongbin still knew that face. Youth looked fine on him, with his dark hair pushed away from his face along with once baby soft features that now adorned his structure with a fierceness that he had not expected. He was a son of Apollo, one that had a penchant for attracting all kinds of trouble, even at a young age. It stood to see if he had changed.

“Sanghyuk?” asked Hakyeon, a crease appearing in his brows, “What are you doing here?” 

Sanghyuk’s words tumbled out of him in his worry, “You’re not— you’re not hurt. I forgot to warn you, the son of Hades— I thought something might have happened to you.”

“You’re giving us a bad reputation, kid,” said Wonsik indignantly.

Sanghyuk scowled a little at that, unconsciously moving in front of Hakyeon, “You can’t blame me for being wary. It’s not like my suspicions are unfounded and you know it.” 

“If you’re here just to criticize Jaehwan because of who he is then I’m afraid you’re not welcome here,” Hongbin interjected, the weight of magic weighing down on his words and he knew Sanghyuk could feel it because he took a small step back, his eyes wary. It seemed that even he was unwilling to test a magician. 

“It’s fine, Hongbin,” Jaehwan said softly, watching Sanghyuk with something indiscernible in his eyes, “What have you heard of me, then? I would not have hurt Hakyeon.” 

Hakyeon shifted uncomfortably, most likely out of fear of offending Jaehwan and causing him to change his mind about the quest, but Hongbin doubted that Jaehwan would give the Elysium coins up so easily. No, the question was borne out of some sort of masochism. In their little town of Arrowhead, it was easy to forget that Jaehwan wasn’t accepted anywhere else outside of the safe haven they had built for themselves over the years.

He was always fated to be an omen of death and ill bearings. His parentage made sure that his good deeds would always be erased from history and his wrongdoings forever immortalized. It was the curse that the children of Hades had always had to bear. Perhaps others had learned to bear it, but with Jaehwan, it was like opening a fresh wound every time.

“You— I know about you. You’re not from this lifetime,” Sanghyuk said evenly, “I know about the experiments, the blackmail, the people you’ve left for dead. You don’t exactly have a clean slate.” 

Hongbin stilled. Rumors got around, yes, but he eyed Sanghyuk, wondering just how much he had heard and just how close it was to the truth. 

For some reason, his accusation just seemed to amuse Jaehwan rather than cause any sort of harm. “No, I don’t,” he admitted freely, “but I also never claimed to be anything other than a neutral party. There are times where my morals might be in check, yes, but I would never hurt someone who did not deserve it.”

Sanghyuk didn’t seem particularly appeased by this explanation but he swallowed down his pride and turned his attention instead to Hakyeon, “So you’re actually doing this, then?” 

“I have to, Sanghyuk, you know this,” Hakyeon said, sounding weary. Hongbin had the feeling that this was an argument that had been rehashed before, the two of them going in circles and both much too stubborn to give in.

“Then let me go with you,” Sanghyuk immediately countered, “I can’t just sit around hoping that nothing happened to you.” 

“And what would I do if I had to watch you die?” Hakyeon snapped. 

“Hakyeon— “ 

“Wait,” Wonsik said, looking between the pair of them, “Sanghyuk, you’re a demigod, yes?” 

Sanghyuk seemed to have realized that he probably shouldn’t have almost started an argument in the presence of so many strangers and hastily re-composed himself. “I— yes. I am a son of Apollo.” 

Hongbin supposed that he could see why Wonsik wasn’t able to immediately make the connection. Where most children of Apollo were of a light build with soft, lyrical voices, Sanghyuk stood as just the opposite. But despite his hard stance, he had his father’s eyes through and through, full of steely determination and full of compassion. He was born of the sun.

Wonsik glanced at him.

This prophecy and its cryptic visions. Whatever it meant in the end, it was unfolding slowly before their eyes, five demigods gathered on the cusp of the world. 

“We wouldn’t be opposed to having another person along,” Wonsik said carefully, “As long as he doesn’t prove to be a burden to us, having another demigod wouldn’t hurt.”

“If you wish to join us, you are free to make that choice,” said Jaehwan.

Sanghyuk stiffened uneasily at being spoken to by Jaehwan, but seemed to force himself to brush it off. If Jaehwan noticed, he didn’t show it. 

“I’m coming with you,” he said decisively, “You’re my best friend, Hakyeon, and I’m not letting you go without me.” 

Tagging along on a quest that almost meant sure death to ensure the survival of one’s best friend was a feeling that Hongbin, unfortunately, sympathized with. “Well, I suppose that’s settled then,” he said, smoothly ignoring the way Hakyeon sputtered indignantly in protest, “Do plan on packing for an extended trip, as unexpected visits from monsters and various deities do have the tendency to slow us down, but also do keep in mind we have limited space in the car, so try not to pack the entire house.”

“Wait,” Sanghyuk said, looking between the three of them, “We’re not actually taking a car, are we?”

“Do you really think it’s wise to cram five demigods into an airplane?” asked Hongbin, “We attract enough monsters individually, but I am not dealing with another round of being trapped in a flying steel tube with three or more monsters.” 

“Listen, kid, we’re not a travel company,” Wonsik said, putting his hands up, “but I can assure you that the car will get us to where we need to be. Eventually.”

— 

“Are you seriously trying to tell me that we’re taking a minivan to the underworld?” Sanghyuk asked, an overstuffed navy suitcase in tow. 

The one car that they usually shared between the three of them stood proudly in the driveway, a tacky cherry red instead of a more forgiving shade of silver or white. It was blocky, wide, and looked barely fit enough to carry the five of them to the nearest PTA meeting. Not quite the vehicle of choice for a potentially several week long excursion to the entrance of hell. 

Well, also, there was the small caveat that it was just ugly.

“It’s not just any minivan,” said Jaehwan, patting the hood affectionately as if Sanghyuk had slighted the car with his offensive words, “It’s the Honda Odyssey 2016. And it’s not just any Honda Odyssey, we shelled out the money for the fully loaded touring edition. We’re talking the works; we have a navigation system, superior safety ratings, decent gas mileage, DVD player in the back, and honestly, a surprising amount of trunk space.” 

Sanghyuk stared at him, sending a silent prayer to the gods that this was all an elaborate prank. 

Jaehwan seemed completely serious about this and a little too enthusiastic about the prospects of hauling cross country with a minivan. 

“The irony of the car’s name is not lost on us, believe me,” Wonsik said as he walked by, dragging two suitcases piled with an unnecessary amount of duffel and paper bags teetering precariously on top. He popped the trunk open, “Well I suppose since we’re acting as your official tour guides, feel free to explore the spacious interior and your home away from home for the next couple of weeks while I load the stuff.” 

“Spacious interior?” Hakyeon asked, an eyebrow raised. 

Jaehwan slid open the door with a dramatic flourish, gesturing grandiosely, “See for yourself. The 2016 Honda Odyssey has a little more than meets the eye.” 

Sanghyuk was reminded forcibly of a subpar salesman. 

Hakyeon and Sanghyuk shared an uncertain glance before stepping into the car.

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but it certainly wasn’t for the row of leather seats to vanish before his eyes. Instead of seating eight, the van turned into a small, impossible house. 

He took his shoes off, leaving them at the carpet at the entrance, Jaehwan shutting the sliding door behind them as they entered. “Told you that the car had a spacious interior” he remarked cheekily, leaning against the light beige walls. 

The interior of the Odyssey was nothing like the interior of Elysium Funeral Services. The shop was a step back in time, the air thick with musty tomes and the electric zing of magic. There, it was cluttered shelves full of potions, books, and candlelight. Here the house was something he would expect to find in any middle class suburban Californian house. 

It was a pleasant surprise to find hardwood floors and a living room with dark leather couches, surrounding a low cherry wood coffee table on top of a neutral rug. It was even complete with a flat screen TV on top of an electric fireplace. Not much separated the kitchen from the dining room and not much separated the dining room from the kitchen save a countertop bar, but it was enough space for the five of them to relax in without treading on each other’s boundaries. 

Three doors lead to what were presumably bedrooms and a spiral staircase wound through the back of the living room. Jaehwan must have followed his gaze, “That’s off limits without permission,” he said, “It’s, ah, Hongbin’s workspace up there,” he explained, “So what do you think? You didn’t really think that we would stuff five people into a car and pray for the best, did you?” 

“How were we supposed to know?” asked Hakyeon, slightly on the defensive, “I’ve never seen a piece of magic this intricate.” 

“Ah,” Jaehwan said, a hint of pride sneaking into his voice, “Yes, Hongbin is rather talented. But it wasn’t just him. Wonsik is pretty much a magician in his own right. He can build just about anything if he puts his mind to it, so between the two of them, we get cool stuff like this and I get to reap the benefits of their work while sitting around and being useless.” 

“Fond of self deprecation aren’t you?” asked Sanghyuk. 

Jaehwan dismissed his words with a hand gesture, “It’s a coping method,” he said lightly, meaning it as a joke. “Well, since there are three bedrooms, I’m assuming Wonsik and Hongbin are taking a room. You two can have the middle one.” 

“And you get a bedroom all to your own?” Hakyeon asked. 

“I like to be able to have enough space to spread out and summon the dead,” Jaehwan deadpanned, “It can be quite detrimental to another person’s sleeping habits.” 

Hakyeon laughed at that and even Sanghyuk had difficulty hiding the small upward quirk of his lips. This seemed to please Jaehwan as he smiled his lopsided half-grin. Sanghyuk thought it was a rather silly look for someone who was so powerful and so old. Then again, it seemed as if Jaehwan had never gotten the memo that he was a son of Hades and should be a lot more intimidating than how he actually was. It was almost endearing.

Almost. 

Jaehwan cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, “I should, probably, ah, go help Wonsik and Hongbin out. But feel free to make yourself at home,” he said, ducking out awkwardly and leaving the two of them in the entrance hall with their suitcases. 

They watched him go. Once the door closed behind him, Hakyeon commented, “He doesn’t seem all too bad.”

“I don’t trust him,” Sanghyuk replied immediately, wheeling his bag across the living room and pushing the door open to their shared bedroom, “He doesn’t act as he should.”

“But you don’t trust anyone, and just because he’s a son of Hades, doesn’t mean he’s automatically the personification of evil,” Hakyeon pointed out, hefting his suitcase up onto the bed and opening it, searching for a new sweatshirt, “Why is it already so cold when it’s only October?” he whined.

“It’s not even that cold, you’re just old,” Sanghyuk pointed out, ducking quickly to avoid Hakyeon’s attempt of turning a T-Shirt into a projectile, “You make me sound so unreasonable, but there’s something off about him.” 

“You just met him two days ago, of course you won’t like him,” Hakyeon sighed, pulling on an old college sweatshirt, “Hongbin, he saved your life, did he not?”

Sanghyuk mumbled begrudgingly, “He did.” 

“He seems to be rather fond of Jaehwan. I doubt that someone of his character would be such close friends with Jaehwan if he were someone untrustworthy,” he pointed out, “Just give him a chance, won’t you?” 

He made a noise of assent so that Hakyeon would drop the subject, but privately, he thought, there was a very slim chance of him ever being foolish enough to trust a son of Hades.  
— 

“Do we really have to bring the entire blender kit?” Jaehwan asked, shifting the load in his arms as Hongbin walked alongside him with a reusable grocery bag full to the brim with priceless tomes. It was a sight he had gotten used to over the years and it wasn’t as bad when he made himself forget just how much those books were worth.

“Just because we’re leaving home doesn’t mean that I’m willing to give up a healthy lifestyle,” Hongbin said primly.

“I’m the one that ends up cooking and making your stupid smoothie bowls all the time anyways,” Jaehwan grumbled.

Hongbin didn’t argue with that. “Have they settled in? And I’m assuming you haven’t told them just how long of a haul they’re in for.”

“Er,” Jaehwan said bashfully, “No, not yet. I mean, New York isn’t _that_ far.” 

“Google Maps is telling me otherwise,” said Hongbin, “You’re certain that we can’t go through the entrance in Los Angeles.”

“If you really think that walking in unannounced through the front entrance of the Underworld will be a good idea, you go ahead,” shot back Jaehwan, “I figured that our chances of getting in and out alive will be a bit higher if we utilize a bit of discretion.” 

“Not sure that Sanghyuk will be too happy spending that long with you,” Hongbin said as they entered the Odyssey, dropping by the kitchen to put away Hongbin’s precious VitaMix 5200 before ascending the spiral staircase.

“He doesn’t seem too fond of me, but it’s fine, I suppose. Hakyeon doesn’t seem to have anything against me, so I’m perfectly fine with four out of five people in this car tolerating my presence. Majority rules, right?”

“Honestly, I thought that you’d be the one that would have a problem with Hakyeon,” said Hongbin as he dropped the bag by the bookshelf, “Can you start putting those away? I need to check the dragon scales,” he frowned at the jostled jars on the heavily rune inscribed desk, “Wonsik never puts those away correctly.”

“I’d have a problem with Hakyeon?” he asked, puzzled, taking an armful of books and holding them close to his chest, “Why?”

Hongbin slid him an unimpressed look, “Him and Taekwoon. You and Taekwoon.” 

Jaehwan could feel himself flushing from the root of his hairs down to his feet. Him and Taekwoon were technically never a thing. They were simultaneously more than that and also less. 

They were best friends, brothers, no, they were twin souls so hopelessly intertwined that it was hard to tell where one ended and the other began. Fated heroes that were undefeatable in battle as long as they stood together. Jaehwan had never doubted that Taekwoon loved him dearly. It was love built of camaraderie and knowing each other so intimately that most could have sworn that they were able to read each other’s minds.

It probably would have been fine if Jaehwan hadn’t taken it a step further and fell in love but Taekwoon always had his eyes looking forward to the future. He never had time to look back and realize that Jaehwan knelt at his feet like the rest of the world, drawn to him as a moth is to flame. 

If he didn’t think about how Taekwoon used to hold him down against the mattress, grinding his hips cruelly down just to hear him whimper, if he didn’t think about how sometimes afterwards Taekwoon would kiss him softly like they were lovers until he was shuddering, then, no, they were never a thing. Just friends with some convenient benefits on the side. 

“It’s been centuries,” pointed out Jaehwan, “I’m not so petty as to begrudge him for romancing Taekwoon. If you want me to be frank, he seems just like Taekwoon’s type. I just can’t figure out how he’s back, though. If he is truly the same Taekwoon I knew. The dead don’t just come back to life without reason.” 

“Perhaps we don’t ever need to find out. You realize that he’s already paid you. We could, if we really wanted to, just abandon this entire thing and run,” Hongbin suggested with a casual voice, but Jaehwan had known him long enough to know that he wasn’t entirely kidding. 

The temptation flashed across his mind for a moment. It wouldn’t exactly be difficult to take the Elysium coins and live out the rest of their lives, setting shop up somewhere else, away from any promise of adventure and prophecy. But no, he promised himself that the man who would have done so was a version of himself that he left firmly behind in the past. It may have been the easier route, but Jaehwan had actually been sticking to his morals so far this century. He couldn’t, in good conscience, abandon it all. Even if the nagging voice in the back of his mind urged him to. 

“No,” said Jaehwan quietly, “We’ll see this through.”

“Even if it means your own death?”

He regarded Hongbin for a moment then averted his gaze, “We have the Elysium coins now. There are always worse fates than death.” 

— 

It was nearly high noon before they finally left Elysium Funeral Services behind. The Odyssey happily made its way through the winding forest roads that hugged the side of the mountain, oblivious to the fact that if the laws of physics applied to impossible houses, it would have plummeted down to its certain doom along with its five passengers. 

The front of the car remained as most cars do, complete with a steering wheel, gas pedal, and everything. Jaehwan eased ever so slightly off the brakes, letting the car find its own pace down the mountain. “So, Sanghyuk has grown quite significantly since the last time we’ve seen him,” Jaehwan said over the soft tune of the radio. 

Wonsik took his gaze off of the passing scenery to shoot Jaehwan an unimpressed look, “What do you mean by that?”

“What?” Jaehwan asked, his voice going ever so slightly high pitched, “Nothing, nothing. It was just an observation. He’s just— uh, he’s grown up, is all.” 

Wonsik snorted, “Right. Are you really crushing on the kid? Why aren’t you ever attracted to people who actually like you?” 

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” said Jaehwan stiffly, “You clearly misunderstand me.” 

“Uh huh,” Wonsik said, sounding particularly unimpressed, “You’re always so unprofessional.” 

“And you’re super rude and like to jump to conclusions,” retorted Jaehwan, sounding particularly childish and he probably wasn’t helping his case when he blew a raspberry at Wonsik, but he wasn’t ever going to fool anyone with his maturity anyways. 

He decided that he would much rather be listening to the calming indie acoustic tunes of Ed Sheeran rather than have to deal with Wonsik’s nettling that he inadvertently brought upon himself. He reached over, one hand fumbling with the radio knob while the other remained on the steering wheel. 

The radio tuned to static, then a tumble of discorded voices. The voices chattered amongst themselves, sounding like a ghost caught in a machine. They whispered and hissed at each other and despite Jaehwan’s insistent turning of the knob, the radio remained stubbornly on the station.

120.1 

The voices grew louder, overlapping each other and he couldn’t quite make out the words. They grew closer, an angry mob trying to escape the confines of the radio. He couldn’t pinpoint why it was making him so uncomfortable, setting him on the edge. The phantoms growled at him, gnashed their teeth, they spoke circles around each other, their words ceasing to become words and instead becoming an endless cacophony of sound.

“Jaehwan? Jaehwan, just turn it off!“

“I can’t, it’s not letting me, it just keeps getting louder, I don’t know— “ 

_Beep, beep, beep!_

Jaehwan jumped in his seat, his phone alarm blaring, most likely his Reminders application reminding him to grab a last minute item from his room before they departed. It was a little late for that. 

His eyes flickered up to the time on top of the colorful map displaying their route down the mountain. 

12:01. 

The radio cut off and the voices disappeared entirely. 

The sudden silence left him feeling almost as unsettled as the malfunctioning radio did. 

“Huh,” Jaehwan said aloud, casual tone trying very hard to make it seem like he didn’t just get spooked by a piece of technology, “I guess, maybe, it’s just the magic that’s probably screwing with the system.” 

“Yeah,” said Wonsik a little uneasily, “could be.” He leaned forward and perhaps it needed its owner’s touch to respond correctly because he was quickly able to switch over to the station they were searching for. “Or you might just be incompetent,” he teased.

Jaehwan rolled his eyes as they rounded the corner. The road stretched on before them, snaking its way through valleys and dips, the sun burning high in the sky. The journey was beginning to feel more real than a concept that he had been shelving away for the near future. 

Their spirits were light with the idealized concept of adventure, of a world waiting for them and their heroic conquests. Jaehwan even found it in himself to sing lightly, his voice a little out of use but still easily finding its niche in gliding high notes and smooth, low treble. 

The Odyssey forged onward, leaving an empty road behind it. 

Save for a lone figure behind them, eyes boring into the van that had left him behind.

Oh, how he missed them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Hongbin is the disgruntled mom who now has to haul 4 kids across the country. Fun times! Keep him in your thoughts and prayers.  
> -This was a slower chapter but I promise next chapter definitely kicks it up a notch.  
> -Sanghyuk is a little shit  
> -You can follow me on [twitter](twitter.com/jaehwandred) and [tumblr](chanstraeus.tumblr.com)  
> -Comments and kudos are super appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

_The swords rang out across the palace grounds. The music of steel against steel was a familiar one, ingrained in his bones. He was a warrior; a hero in training. That was the word nowadays, at least._

_Young men whispered in low voices when they saw him passing in the streets, the servants talked, and the palace’s prostitutes lavished him with their appraising gazes. Before the prophecy, he had been little more than the outcast, a talented soldier, but still, he remained someone so cursed that even the dead feared him._

_He knew how this would go. Taekwoon had always been the better fighter, the better thinker. They would both accept the laurels, the fame, the supposed blessing of the gods. But when the glossy veneer dropped, it would be Taekwoon that got the marble tombs and odes to his name and Jaehwan would be lost to the passing of the centuries, a footnote, a companion to the great son of Zeus._

_“Focus,” Taekwoon snapped, effortlessly parrying his blow._

_The impact reverberated painfully in his shoulder, but Jaehwan knew that he wouldn’t be pleased to see any sign of weakness._

_“Again,” said Taekwoon carelessly._

_These practices and drills seemed to take nothing out of Taekwoon and Jaehwan didn’t think that he would ever understanding the grueling effort it cost. But then again, he was only half as good as Taekwoon, but you only really had to be half as good as Taekwoon to be better than everyone else._

_He didn’t know how long they were out there. Minutes turned into hours under the sweltering heat. Movements that were usually lightning fast slowed to a dulled knife’s edge. The sun glowed blood red on Taekwoon’s face._

_He staggered, and only by throwing his arm out at the last minute did he manage to save himself from falling into the dirt. The sand grated against his calloused hands._

_“Get up,” barked Taekwoon, lording impatiently above him._

_Crimson dripped slowly onto the ground. Exhaustion seeped into his very core._

_“Taekwoon, everyone’s left already,” he said softly._

_It was true. He hadn’t been conscious of it while they were training, but the rest of the soldiers had filtered out two by two until it was just the two of them._

_“That’s no excuse, we leave tomorrow,” Taekwoon countered just as quietly, but with a hard edge to his voice that Jaehwan was never very good at matching. He should have known better than to expect mercy from Taekwoon of all people._

_He got to his feet eventually and the world narrowed down to just the two of them._

_“Again.”_

_He struck—_

“Yo, Jaehwan, are you okay there?”

He blinked. The world came back into focus around him. Reality was the leather seat at his back, the obnoxious rap music on the radio, the wind blowing through the window and messing up his hair.

“Yeah,” he replied, his throat a little dry, “I lost focus for a moment.”

“See, this is why we don’t ever trust you to drive long distances,” Wonsik pointed out gamely, “You seemed pretty out of it though, you sure everything’s alright?”

Jaehwan contemplated not telling him. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Wonsik. It was simply that saying it out loud confirmed what he had been feeling in his gut ever since Hakyeon had entered their shop and changed everything. His time with Taekwoon was long ago, and even though he could never forget, he had accepted his grief and moved on. The ghost of his memory had settled and he was content in knowing that in the end, Taekwoon’s soul had been at peace.

When Taekwoon had been alive, Jaehwan took great comfort in always being able to feel his soul beside him. He could reach out and catch glimpses of his mood, his pain, his joy but he had not felt his presence in centuries.

The revelation that Taekwoon was still alive didn’t come in one big flash, so much as it built slowly beneath his powers. It came in the way that Taekwoon came into his life — in invading his thoughts, plaguing his sleep, and generally upsetting the careful balance he created for himself.

He could feel a headache coming on as he rubbed at his temple, “The Taekwoon that we’re going on a wild goose chase for just happens to be the same one that I used to know,” he made a bitter noise of amusement, “It’s a small world after all.”

“Isn’t that a good thing, though? I thought maybe you’d miss him. You used to talk about him sometimes and, well, Hongbin sort of filled me in.”

Jaehwan paused, frowning as he stared down at his phone in an affectation of appearing to be busy, “No, speak of something else.”

“You’re so grumpy sometimes,” Wonsik whined, “Never thought I’d say this but I think I’d rather have the version of Lee Jaehwan that never shuts up,” he said, reaching over to affectionately ruffle his hair.

Jaehwan swatted his hand away grumpily, muttering mutinously under his breath, “I’m only up here because I don’t trust leaving you and Hongbin alone together. Ever.”

“Really?” said Wonsik, exasperated, “It was one time!”

“The one time that he decided to give you a handjob while you were driving is also the last time, I hope,” said Jaehwan in a monotone voice as Wonsik sputtered, slowly turning red, “There are some things that I wish to never discuss again but really, it was a safety hazard. Can you not stand to be professional for once in your life?”

“I wanted to wake you up to tell you to look for a place to stop for lunch, not— not to humiliate me for no reason.”

“Humiliate you? Are you into that too— ah, you know what, never mind forget it,” Jaehwan said, all too casually as he slid his phone out of his pocket.

“Why are you like this.” It wasn’t even a question; Wonsik make it sound more like a statement of vexation.

Jaehwan shrugged innocently, busy on his phone, “There’s nothing out here except for gas stations, dirt, a vaguely nearby mountain, and more dirt,” he complained, staring despondently ahead through the windshield as his phone decided that today was not a good day to pick up any signal.

“Well, we’re halfway to Vegas if that makes you feel any better.”

“That does not make me feel any better.”

“You know, I might have even suggested spending a night in Vegas but I know that you’d never want to leave,” Wonsik said.

“You imply that I am irresponsible and prone to excess drinking which I assure you, I am not. My sometimes overzealous enthusiasm for alcohol has thankfully gone down over the years,” retorted Jaehwan, “As for lunch, Yelp is informing me of err, some place called Peggy Sue’s Diner, apparently. Three and a half stars sounds good enough, right? It’s four miles away.”

“Good enough for me and I don’t think the others will complain,” said Wonsik and Jaehwan hummed in agreement, typing in the address into the navigation, “You know that you’ll probably have to inform them eventually of the fact that we’re trekking all the way across the country, right?”

Jaehwan winced a little, “I don’t think they actually thought we’d be going that far.”

Wonsik shrugged, “I mean, it’s not like there’s a convenient portal to the Underworld in every state, you know? If they have a problem with it, it’s not like they can do anything. We’re kind of their only choice.”

Jaehwan huffed, “I suppose you’re right,” he said as he stood up slowly. He figured it was an excuse to stretch his legs anyways. “Just don’t crash the car while I’m gone, alright? Our insurance rate is actually decent right now.”

Wonsik flipped him off.

—

He found both of them on the couch. Sanghyuk leaned over, laughing at something on his phone screen while Hakyeon rolled his eyes, shoving him away.

They both looked up at him and Sanghyuk’s expression turned carefully guarded. Jaehwan found himself wanting to sigh, suddenly.

“Sorry for interrupting,” said Jaehwan, rubbing at the back of his neck, “Just, thought I’d drop by and let you know that we’re dropping for lunch in about,” he glanced quickly at his phone, “ten minutes or so?”

Hakyeon perked noticeably up at this and said with dramatic flourish, “Oh thank the gods. I thought you left us back here to starve.”

Jaehwan managed a small laugh, “Is he always like this?” he asked, glancing towards Sanghyuk.

“I’ve had years to get used to it,” said Sanghyuk with a roll of his shoulders.

“Well, I suppose that we’ll have at least a month or two to acclimate,” Jaehwan said as casually as he could, “It, err, might take a bit more time than anticipated to get to New York.”

Sanghyuk blinked. “New York?”

Jaehwan looked a bit sheepish, “I— well, the Doors of Orpheus are in New York. We couldn’t risk taking the main entrance so we have to take the long way around.”

“I thought the Doors of Orpheus were a myth,” said Sanghyuk.

“Not a myth,” corrected Jaehwan, “It’s just relatively unknown. Not many people are looking to enter the Underworld in the first place but my father will not be keeping a very close eye on this entrance. As long as we’re careful, I think that this provides our best chances of success.”

“And what of Taekwoon, then? You don’t think that all of this time wasted won’t leave him open to more danger?” pressed Hakyeon.

“No,” and he continued speaking even when Hakyeon looked as if he wanted to interrupt him, “I assure you I would feel it if he were in any danger in my father’s realm.”

“How can you know? You can’t possibly be keeping tabs on every soul that passes through,” argued Hakyeon.

“No,” he agreed, his voice somber, “but this is Taekwoon. I would recognize him in any life.”

“What— What do you mean by that?” said Hakyeon, his eyes unnervingly sharp.

“I— it’s a long story. I’m not saying that to be evasive, truly, I just do not know where to even begin,” Jaehwan said, wringing his hands, “I guess I could begin by telling you that he should be dead but— you knew him. Know him. But to me, for all these years he was dead. But then you came to me, and I do not think I can describe it to you. Children of Hades, we can feel the life presence of others and once I had the inkling that Taekwoon was alive, I could _feel_ him again. I had never searched for his presence again because I had no reason to. But I know that he is alive, his soul, however faint, is still here. Believe me, I would know it if he died.”

“How? That kind of bond exists only between two people bound by fate. It’s usually the kind of thing that only happens in myths,” mused Sanghyuk.

Something strange settled in Jaehwan’s eyes, the passing of a hurricane. “That is close enough to the truth,” he said quietly, “I once loved him as a brother and as a friend but, well, times have changed. But I,” he gestured vaguely to himself, “Well, _we_ both died after the Trojan War but he was _dead_. I watched as his soul passed through the judgement pavilions. I want to know why he’s back.”

  
“Well, I suppose we’ll find out when we ask him ourselves,” said Hakyeon.

—

“I don’t know how you did it, Jaehwan, but I think you may have googled the biggest and most obvious tourist trap in this entire desert,” Wonsik remarked as they pulled up to the parking lot. The asphalt sizzled with heat, still, despite it being in the middle of October.

They were the only ones in a large parking lot besides a silver sedan that was barely clinging on to life. None of them were quite sure what to make of the theming outside with its stagnant pond surrounded by dinosaurs of peeling paint and a questionable looking zombie popping out of the ground or two.

Perhaps it was theming for Jurassic Park 2: Zombie Apocalypse.

Sanghyuk dutifully followed the rest of their little party inside, grateful to be welcomed by the cool blast of air conditioning.

The diner was less of a time capsule from the 50s and more of a kitschy representation of the era. A jukebox in the corner (featuring heavy dinosaur decal) blared a crackling version of Elvis Presley’s top hits remixed with a healthy dose of static.

They sat themselves at a table where they were promptly handed menus for Peggy Sue’s 50’s Diner and were cheerily informed in a cherry syrup voice that their waitress’ name was Peggy Sue.

“Is it just me or am I getting a bit of an odd feeling from this place?” asked Sanghyuk, his voice utterly casual as he flipped through the laminated menu.

“I think that the more important question is ‘Is it just me or is everything on this menu fried and extremely likely to give me a heart attack?’” Hongbin asked, the resignation settling in his voice as he flipped to the page proudly displaying the Triple Bacon Meat Lovers’ Extreme Burger.

“Jaehwan picked it,” Wonsik said, literally pointing fingers.

He squawked, also known as the most undignified noise a human could make, “Yelp says it has four stars! In defense of my decision, I’m going to have to point out that the milkshakes here are probably god tier.”

Hakyeon rolled his eyes, “If we all get food poisoning, at least we have a scapegoat.”

Jaehwan grumbled mutinously under his breath at that and Sanghyuk couldn’t help the upward quirk of his lips.

No one seemed to notice.

Their conversations sounded too loud in the diner. Despite the lack of cars parked outside, the diner was full of people, most of them tourists it looked like. Many of them sported Mickey Mouse ears, some of them dressed like they were dressed for a climate that involved a lot more snow and a lot less Nevada desert. The diner should have been bustling, full of excited recaps of their vacations or plans for their next stop but their own party seemed to be the only one at ease.

The tourists looked lost and strangely out of place, gesturing incoherently to each other, their mouths opening and closing with barely a sound. A gentleman walked by him, dressed in a suit and a top hat, pocketwatch dangling from his coat. A bit odd unless there was a convention in town they didn’t know about, but he didn’t think that could explain the vague feeling of unease that settled upon him.

“Hey guys,” Sanghyuk said haltingly. Jaehwan was mid laugh at something that Hakyeon said when they all stilled.

Dinner plates rattled from the kitchen. Glassware toppled from the shelves with a crystalline crash.

The jukebox played on and on.

_You ain't nothin’ but a hound dog_   
_Cryin’ all the time_   
_Well, you ain't never caught a rabbit_   
_And you ain't no friend of mine—_

“Too many demigods in one place,” Jaehwan muttered under his breath, “The number one most efficient way to draw trouble.”

“We haven't even ordered our food yet,” griped Wonsik.

“Go, we need to get out of here,” said Hongbin lowly, standing up slowly.

“But there's nothing even wrong—” protested Hakyeon.

He spoke too soon. _Boom!_ The diner rattled. It felt like an earthquake and perhaps it could have been passed off as a natural disaster if it weren't accompanied by a reverberating roar.

The other diners paid it no notice, their monotone voices droning on in the background until it became little more than a nettlesome hum.

The earth shook in time to footsteps and they all stood as quickly as they could without drawing too much suspicion. Peggy Sue, the waitress of Peggy Sue’s 50s Diner, hurried over, her ruby red heels clicking on the tile floor.

“I haven't even taken your order yet, loves, must you go so soon?” She simpered in a sickly sweet voice.

“No sorry,” Hongbin said, pushing past her, “I'm afraid we have to go right now immediately.”

They broke out into the dry air, the parking lot just as empty as before.

Save for the fifteen foot Minotaur waiting for them there. It was a fearsome creature with a massive upper body, rippling with an obscene amount of muscle covered in fur. The beast swung its massive head around, two horns pointed to the sky. It was naked except for a pair of tight white underwear. Sanghyuk had the horrible feeling that he would have found the image quite funny if he weren't at risk of being obliterated by a bull-man thing.

“This is bullshit,” said Jaehwan drily.

Sanghyuk wasn't inclined to disagree.

He assumed that the Minotaur took offense to that because it lowered its head and charged.

“Get Hakyeon and Sanghyuk out of here!” yelled Jaehwan and with a swiftness he hadn't expected, Jaehwan made a motion with his hand and the earth split apart, a dagger flying into his hand. It was a weapon of Stygian iron, a blade forged in the fires of the Underworld and entirely different from the honor bound weapons that usually belonged to heroes. He flipped the dagger over in his hand and the blade extended, turning into a sword.

Jaehwan side stepped its charge and swung upwards, but the Minotaur whipped around, catching the blow with its horns.

Sanghyuk froze. He was vaguely aware of Wonsik grabbing Hakyeon and running back to the van, but any time he recalled the events, all he could remember was how Jaehwan fought like he had an army behind him, a fearsome force that could not be tamed even by nature.

Hongbin grabbed his arm and he snapped out of his trance.

“We can't just leave him here to fight that thing alone,” protested Sanghyuk, “Go! I'll watch his back.”

Hongbin clenched his jaw, his tension manifesting around him as a crackle of energy. For a moment, Sanghyuk was sharply aware of just how much power Hongbin posed within him but in the end, he turned away to follow Wonsik and Hakyeon.

Jaehwan parried the Minotaur’s horns blow by blow. It seemed impossible that one man could stand up to such a force, but Jaehwan fought like the art of battle was ingrained in him. Life did not seem to be able to stand against a force like him.

The sun shone blood red on Sanghyuk’s face.

The heat of the day flowed through his limbs, a silent prayer to Apollo. The Minotaur reached out to grab Jaehwan,but he was a step ahead; his sword cleaved through the air in an evocation of the mighty tales of the heroes of old. Sanghyuk drew the bow of celestial bronze from the air, a gift from the sun and it trembled in his grip.

Jaehwan stumbled for the first time, his mortality suddenly glaring. The monster raised a fist bigger than any human body and knocked him aside as easily as a rag doll.

In times of urgency, the world slowed down.

Sanghyuk drew his bow, arrow nocked. _Remember, it’s you and the world. No such thing as a lucky shot, boy—_ Phantom voices filled his head with the whispers of a memory, of lessons and words inscribed in stone. _Ready, aim, fire._

The arrow whistled through the air and found its mark in the creature’s chest. Jaehwan didn't waste the opportunity and scrambled away as the Minotaur howled in frustration.

They both turned. Jaehwan to see his unexpected savior and the Minotaur to find its next target.

Sanghyuk gulped. The Minotaur snarled and lowered its head.

He quickly moved out of the immediate path of the charging bull, but his arrows only seemed to enrage the creature further. The Minotaur closed the distance in too little time. The ground rumbled and the asphalt split between Sanghyuk and the creature into a gaping hole with no perceivable end.

The temperature dropped suddenly in the nearby vicinity. The clacking of bones against each other filled the air and out of the corner of his eye he saw Jaehwan go still.

The Minotaur was more than large enough to clear the gap in the earth were it not for the small army of the undead that rose from it. Sanghyuk shuddered, despite himself. They were skeletons and half rotting corpses with empty eyes and hanging entrails. The conjured dead possessed no weapons save for bones ripped from their own comrades but they rushed at the Minotaur with a single minded intensity regardless.

“Sanghyuk, run!” cried Jaehwan. The dead were a distraction. A steady trickle of blood ran from Jaehwan’s nose

The Minotaur’s wounds had healed much faster than they should have, fur and skin knitting together until it was left with only clumps of matted blood.

It roared, enraged. Its beady eyes glowed a malevolent red. They ran.

Amongst their footfalls and heavy breathing the Minotaur chased them. It bulldozed through Jaehwan’s army, the air filled with the sickening crunch of bones and the terrible sound of flesh being torn apart.

Their head start meant nothing and the great beast caught up to them. The world slowed around Sanghyuk. Perhaps it was only because he had never truly been in mortal danger before, but his life narrowed down to the pounding in his ears and the blunt force that knocked him to the ground and smothered him. The reality of the situation slammed into him. His head collided with the ground and his vision swam. The Minotaur’s hand pinned him to the ground. Its rancid breath soured the air. He shoved upwards with his bow, but it did nothing against the advantage of brute strength and size.

The Minotaur’s fist raised in the air, poised to come smashing down.

But Jaehwan was there faster than his eyes could track him. He almost didn’t dare to believe that he was actually there. There was barely a second, maybe two in between the Minotaur pinning him to the ground and Jaehwan’s timely arrival.

In an act of calculated foolhardiness, he threw himself in between Sanghyuk and the Minotaur, lunging and stabbing upward with his sword. His blade whirled, flashing in the light. A great roar shook the land and Jaehwan struck again, and again, unrelenting. The blood of the monster splattered the ground, sinking into the red clay.

Sanghyuk’s limbs trembled as he pushed himself back up. He couldn’t hide the tremor in his fingers as he pulled his bowstring back, but he had never missed a shot.

_Son of Apollo, eh?_ The arrow flew and found its target in the Minotaur’s left eye. The scream sounded as if it could have rattled the heavens. _Doesn’t count for anything_. The power of the sun flowed through his veins, singing in him a song of his father’s blessing. Another shot. The Minotaur staggered around, blind. _You’ll never be more than a—_

The third arrow soared barely an inch over the swiftly moving form of Jaehwan and notched itself in the Minotaur’s heart.

_Lucky shot._

Jaehwan swung his blade upward, stygian iron piercing the Minotaur’s heart and the great beast heaved one last breath before tumbling to the ground. He stood amidst the swirling dust, his chest heaving and sword by his side. The wind picked up slightly and the body fell apart. It simply ceased to be and disappeared into a pile of ashes.

They looked at each other across the silent expanse.

In the aftermath of the moment, Sanghyuk found his mind buzzing with a commotion of energy and yet with nothing to say. Jaehwan strode across, closing the distance between them. Maybe this was where he would be berated for staying behind, throwing the battle, almost getting them both killed. As much as it pained him to even think it, maybe Hakyeon was right. A burden with a hero complex was no use to any of them.

Jaehwan looked at him with a strangeness in his eyes, something he couldn’t pinpoint. For someone that was so sharp with his words, he seemed to be searching for sentences that wouldn’t come. Finally, “Why— why did you do it?” he asked, sounding almost frustrated but not quite, “You came back for me.”

Sanghyuk blinked. Jaehwan had every right to be upset, or at least annoyed. He had been expecting it. But he hadn’t given it much thought. Perhaps Hongbin and Wonsik were confident in his ability to regularly handle threats and Sanghyuk could barely consider Jaehwan more than a begrudging acquaintance, but to leave him so easily behind to fight alone was not something that had even crossed his mind.

“I— I don’t know. I just— guess I didn’t want you to fight alone,” Sanghyuk finished lamely, “But I guess, in retrospect that you would have been fine on your own.”

Jaehwan seemed a little surprised by that and instead of berating him for being a hindrance, to Sanghyuk’s surprise, he looked touched. “I thought I would have been able to handle it on my own at first,” he admitted, “But— I don’t know what happened. Either I’m getting weak or Tartarus is popping out more powerful monsters by the day. I can’t say what would have happened if I were alone.”

“You saved my life though,” Sanghyuk pointed out.

“Yes, but I think that in coming back to watch my back, you might have ensured that I lived to fight another day as well,” countered Jaehwan, “Guess I got lucky to have a force of nature like you on my side.”

Sanghyuk stared at him for a beat. Did Jaehwan just really throw out some careful and vague flirtation? “Your nose is still bleeding,” he pointed out in a monotone voice instead of choosing to reply to that.

“Oh,” said Jaehwan in a small voice as he lifted his hand up to gingerly touch his nose and drew it away, red, “Yeah, that happens. Overexertion of powers and all that.”

“Don’t pass out on me, no offense and all but I’m not hauling your ass back to the van,” said Sanghyuk.

Jaehwan laughed, the lines of his face boyish, and Sanghyuk almost forgot that this wasn’t a demigod who had lived through the turning of countless years and was able to rip open the earth to summon the dead. He inwardly marveled at how easily Jaehwan let down his walls. It wasn’t hard to see how quickly Hakyeon had decided that he trusted him, lineage and all. In the back of his mind, Sanghyuk knew that he still kept his secrets. Jaehwan seemed so open and soft; it was too easy to want to trust him, and those kinds of people were the most dangerous of all.

“I’m not so out of practice that I would be winded that easily,” said Jaehwan and a fissure opened in the earth and he dropped his sword into it, the ground swallowing it up. He did it so casually that it seemed perfectly normal to drop a conjured weapon of the Underworld and send it back down to his own personal storage locker in hell. Of course. “We should probably get back before the others think we’re actually dead.”

The thought of Hakyeon’s expression when he recounted the events blow by blow made him smile just a little bit. He would most definitely have a heart attack. “I hope that we stalled long enough out here for one of them to be able to have made a semi-decent lunch.”

His thoughts lingered too long on the way that he felt an odd sort of satisfaction from seeing Jaehwan laugh at that in his easy company, as if they had already been friends for years. He supposed, begrudgingly, there was something about near death experiences that made them great bonding activities.

He couldn’t quite find it in him to hold himself at a wary distance from Jaehwan as they made their way back.

The wind shifted, littered newspapers flitting across the parking lot. And behind them, the ashes stirred.

The rules of the universe seemed to have been thrown in disregard lately for the tips of the twin horns of the freshly slain Minotaur began to peek out from the tawny Nevada dirt.

—

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” exclaimed Hakyeon with a mixture of exasperation and anger, but Jaehwan knew that his anger stemmed mostly from his worry.

“But I didn’t,” Sanghyuk pointed out and honestly, he didn’t seem much worse for wear after a small dose of nectar. Which reminded him that they should probably look into stocking up on some more ambrosia squares and nectar if they were going to be getting in these kind of skirmishes every time they tried to peacefully stop for lunch.

Life was hard for a demigod.

“Maybe splitting up isn’t the best idea then,” said Wonsik, his words inlaid with implied guilt that he did not want to voice aloud.

Jaehwan shrugged, leaning against the dinner table, “I’d rather have you all safe in here and only have to worry about watching my own back. It’s not your fault,” he said, nodding to Wonsik and Hongbin, “I’ve been handling the monsters for years on my own. I have not faced such a challenge in awhile. Who knows, maybe it’s just the universe keeping me on my toes. Wouldn’t do for me to go senile.”

“I know you guys think that it’s your responsibility to keep us safe, but we knew what we signed up for,” pointed out Hakyeon, “I think it’s safer and more efficient if we worked together next time we get attacked.”

“And there will be many next times,” conceded Hongbin with a sigh, “It’s not my choice to make. If we could make it through all this without one of us dying though, that would be great for our overall business. If either of you leave a bad review on the internet about us, I swear upon the gods I will hex you.”

Sanghyuk laughed, swaying slightly in his chair, leaning against him. Jaehwan stiffened at the touch and Sanghyuk took quick notice because he flinched away like he was shocked, sitting up straight again.

Hongbin didn’t miss the little exchange, his eyes flickering between the two of them. Jaehwan knew that the sorcerer was too sharp to let something like that go, but he couldn’t comment on it with everyone present. He could only bite his lip, holding back a smirk.

Jaehwan subconsciously moved away from the table. He liked Sanghyuk, sure, but it was nothing more than a passing attraction and he didn’t want to fool Hongbin into believing that anything was going to happen between them. Gods knew that although Hongbin usually thought that Jaehwan was incapable of feeling anything past friendship for anyone, but once he got wind of a potential budding romance, he was like a dog with a bone. Nosy bastard.

“Well I suppose since no one else wants to do it, I guess it’s up to me to actually feed you children,” said Jaehwan dramatically, headed towards the kitchen. Of course the only response he got were nagging complaints about the overall quality of his food but at least he was competent enough to actually be able to provide sustenance at all, even if his food wasn’t top tier.

  
It was probably not the best time for Jaehwan to be left unattended in the kitchen with knives and general sharp objects though. He almost sliced his index finger off while contemplating how Sanghyuk was just attractive, not how fighting side by side with him felt like fighting with Taekwoon again. He was just a competent fighter, that was all. That explained it.

Jaehwan would rather try to take Cerberus for a walk again than get sidetracked off a dramatic quest foretold by a grand old prophecy just because his hormones decided that they wanted to take him on a romantic comedy style road trip instead.

“Damn Han Sanghyuk and his above average bone structure,” he grumbled forlornly to himself.

—

The day passed by uneventfully and Jaehwan almost felt disappointed by lack of another monster attack before dinner. He hadn’t realized how much he missed this. He had thought that he was jaded, burnt out by adventuring and all that it entailed, but he should have known better than to think that the sedentary life would have suited him.

The thrill of battle and the swing of the sword, they were things Jaehwan once lived and died for.

He sat cross legged on the roof of the car, idly playing with the shadows the cactus cast. His fingers weaved patterns and simple figures with the shadows and he vaguely recalled Hongbin calling him a ‘Hot Topic Edgelord’ after he had seen Jaehwan in action.

The thought made him smile a bit to himself, alone under the moonlight.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” a voice called out into the dark, interrupting his thoughts.

It wasn’t exactly hard to find Jaehwan out here every night. Despite the monotonous scenery, he could still appreciate the jagged silhouette the mountains cut into a starry sky. There was something peaceful about the endless expanse of nothing. There was also the problem that it was hard to feel truly alone inside of the van, despite the interior being as large as it was.

He figured the fresh air was good for him anyways.

“A couple of bruises here and there won’t kill me,” Jaehwan said, eyeing Sanghyuk, “Why are out here? Tired of Hakyeon nagging you?”

“Why? Do you have a problem with it?”

“No, I just— “ Jaehwan shrugged, the movement a bit aborted, “I was under the impression that you rather did not like me or enjoy my company is all.”

“You saved my life out there so I think that now classifies you as tolerable,” said Sanghyuk simply as he climbed on top of the van as well, sitting beside him, his legs dangling down.

“Well, at least it is an upgrade” Jaehwan said cheerily, “You can’t give me all the credit, though. I just— I did what anyone else would do. Besides, I am grateful to you for coming back. Truly.”

“I kind of felt like an idiot when I did though,” Sanghyuk said ruefully, “You fought like a one man army out there. I mean, I can see why Wonsik and Hongbin didn’t exactly worry when they just left you out there. It was crazy, you— you move so fast I can hardly see you. How do you do it?”

He was, honestly, unused to such praise. To hear it come from Sanghyuk was even more surprising. He ducked his head quickly, hiding his face. “Thank you but I think that you’re only impressed with me because you’ve never seen someone like Taekwoon fight.”

Sanghyuk fell silent for a bit and Jaehwan was beginning to wonder if he had inadvertently made things awkward between the two of them. When he spoke again, his voice was halting, “Can I ask you about something— or, well, that sounds vague. I just— wanted to know about Taekwoon but I try to avoid bringing that up with Hakyeon for obvious reasons but I mean, I know you guys were close because of what you said earlier but you don’t seem to hate him or anything even after— “

“You can ask,” said Jaehwan slowly, “I will try to be honest with you but I can only promise so much.”

Sanghyuk seemed a little surprised that he was willing to talk about it, and if he was candid with himself, he was surprised by himself too. “Why don’t you hate him, then? I know it’s been a long time but still, I don’t think that’s something that most people can just forget about and move on from.”

Jaehwan shrugged, going for casual, but he knew the movement was too jerky to be read as that, “A couple centuries has been enough time to forgive him. Holding a grudge was so tiring and I don't think I'd ever be able to truly hate him. We were, well, I suppose _are_ twin souls.”

“Then were you two,” Sanghyuk hesitated before prodding a little more, “Were you two lovers then?”

Despite himself, Jaehwan could feel his cheeks warming up. Well, at least Sanghyuk probably wouldn’t notice in the low lighting. “No, we weren’t lovers or anything, well, actually, not to be cliche but it was a bit complicated.”

“Oh,” said Sanghyuk, “Do you not care for men, then?”

Jaehwan let out a startled laugh at that, rubbing the back of his neck. How unlikely it was for Sanghyuk to come to such an arbitrary, but not entirely illogical conclusion, “No— no, that wasn’t the problem. The root of the problem was that I was selfish, and I wanted more than what he was willing to give me. He never saw past that. I guess— I guess I still do love him but not in the same way. It’s more of the sense that even though he’s been out of my life for so long, the time that he was there he changed everything about me. And I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.”

“I think I know how that feels,” said Sanghyuk quietly, “You’re not upset about him and Hakyeon, then?”

He sighed, rubbing his temple, “I am,” he said and he was aware that not only did he probably sound petty, but that Sanghyuk was the first person he had admitted it to, and considering that they were best friends, it probably wasn’t the brightest idea. “It’s not that I’m upset that they’re together I am mostly upset that Taekwoon never sought me out. He let me believe that he was still dead, but ah— never mind, it’s not— it’s not something that I plan to make a big deal about.”

“I’m sure he had his reasons,” said Sanghyuk placatingly, “Are you really trying to tell me, though, that you’ve been around for all this time and you haven’t picked up a new love interest and moved on, though?”

Jaehwan smiled at that and shook his head, his slightly shower damp hair falling into his eyes, “No, I’ve had my dalliances here and there. But nothing serious, I think. I try very hard not to fall in love. It has always done me more harm than good.”

“Maybe you just haven’t been very lucky, then,” proposed Sanghyuk.

“Maybe,” agreed Jaehwan before he lapsed into silence, content with distracting himself by picking the imaginary lint off of his sweatpants than to further discuss the topic.

Sanghyuk seemed to have caught on that he had no more that he wanted to say because he swiftly switched topics, “You mentioned something about how you thought Taekwoon was a better fighter than you but you’re a Son of Hades. I’m one hundred percent certain that you weren’t even fighting at your peak.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Jaehwan said, sounding amused, “Are you trying to get me to show you what I can do?”

“Perhaps,” said Sanghyuk, “And I very highly doubt I’m wrong when I say that flattery will get me _everywhere_ with you.”

He was right, but Jaehwan was never going to admit that.

Jaehwan was surprised that Sanghyuk was willing to stay out here with him when it was already well past a reasonable hour for sleep. It had an implied intimacy that Jaehwan wasn’t sure that he liked or wanted more of. But he supposed he could indulge Sanghyuk. Just this once.

He reached out with his senses and felt the pull of the earth, of shadow, of the life in death. The shadows they cast upon the ground shifted and moved and rose into the air into a corporeal form. He felt Sanghyuk tense beside him. It made no noise as he pulled it into a being.   
“I can do this,” Jaehwan said, the shadowy creature leaping up onto the Odyssey’s roof beside them. It became clearer that it was a fox, leaping and bounding in play beside them. It materialized into as close to a living being as it could be, its bushy tail brushing past Sanghyuk’s sleeve as it breezed on by.

“And I can do this,” he said, and the clack of bones together became clear as the skeleton of a raccoon, probably an unfortunate part of the aftermath between animal and car, scurried in the undergrowth beneath their feet. Despite the vaguely gruesome form, he thought that it had a certain charm to the way it stood on its hind legs, inquisitively nosing the air. “And this,” said Jaehwan as the shadows of the forest snaked up a tree and consumed it, rendering it invisible to the human eye then he made a little motion with his hand and it became real again.

A nightshade sprouted from the ground, its stem growing unnaturally long until he was able to lean forward and pick the flower and hand it to Sanghyuk. “And this,” he said, his voice almost reverent as his fingers brushed against Sanghyuk’s when he offered it to him.

Sanghyuk cupped the purple flower delicately in his hands, then to Jaehwan’s surprise, he began to laugh, but it was soft, teasing.

“You can use your powers to do all these cool things but you use it to conjure animals and flowers?”

“I think they’re cute,” said Jaehwan defensively, “Fine, If you do not appreciate my good work, I will simply take them away— “

Sanghyuk giggled at that, the sound incredibly boyish, “No, no I think it’s adorable,” he said, reaching out and running his hand through the conjured fox’s fur.

“Are you mocking me?” he said, feigning true hurt, “You do realize that I can actually conjure beasts such as dragons and the like but yes, go ahead and laugh at me.”

“And how well would that turn out? You’d probably pass out from all the energy it took,” he sassed back.

“I didn’t pass out I just got the worst headache of my life from doing that,” huffed Jaehwan, “You’re so mean to me. You’ve been harassing me since day one.”

“I probably shouldn’t,” Sanghyuk conceded, “To be honest, I might be nicer purely because you make really good breakfast and it’d be a shame if you screwed with my pancakes in the morning out of spite.”

“Of course, no one expects the Son of Hades to be good at anything besides terrorizing children,” Jaehwan said ruefully, “No one ever sees that I am both proficient in swordsmanship and in the kitchen. Hongbin has positively domesticated me.”

“I’ll admit that your chocolate chip ones are pretty good but the blueberry ones are my favorite.”

“I’ll keep that in mind then.”

—

The morning dawned soft and hazy. It was the kind that encouraged sleeping in until noon and spending the rest of the day doing nothing but binge watching television shows.

But the reality of their quest called and Sanghyuk still found himself padding towards the kitchen unwillingly at 7 in the morning, which was much too early in his opinion.

His hair stuck up in every which way and he was dressed only in his old white Hollywood T-Shirt and grey sweatpants. “Are those blueberry?” he yawned, his voice scratchy.

Jaehwan turned, startled by the sudden intrusion as the pan sizzled behind him. “Just thought I would change it up a bit,” he said, the sun in his smile and the cheer in his voice.

Despite Sanghyuk’s general distaste towards people who could handle mornings with any amount of happiness, he couldn’t quite find himself begrudging him when Jaehwan sauntered over and slid the pancakes onto his white porcelain plate, patterned with vintage charm.

“Just for you,” he said in a conspiratory low tone, leaning toward him, his arm brushing against Sanghyuk’s. His voice caught in his throat. Jaehwan’s hair remained down and unstyled. He probably hadn’t had time to do it before he had to wake up and make breakfast but it was still so odd for him to see him like this. His mind struggled to reconcile the idea of such a powerful warrior with someone who could be so soft. “Honestly, Wonsik put in a request before you but—”

Before he could finish the thought, Jaehwan’s eyes darted up and he moved away quickly as if he had been burned. Sanghyuk fought not to feel strangely disappointed.

“Speak of the devil,” muttered Jaehwan.

It quickly became clear that Wonsik had only woken up this early to try and get some early picks on breakfast before the rest of them hoarded too much for themselves or before anything went cold. But upon taking in the situation, “I asked for french toast and every time I think that you’ll follow through, I always end up disappointed,” complained Wonsik, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

Jaehwan snickered at that, leaning against the countertop, “Sorry to disappoint but I only listen to the requests of people I actually like.”

“Are you implying that you don’t like me?” asked Wonsik, affronted.

“Not in the slightest,” Jaehwan repiled easily, piling the plate high with pancakes but not before he turned around, giving Sanghyuk a conspiratory wink.

Sanghyuk’s lips quirked up at the ends and Jaehwan’s eyes crinkled up at that.

It was strange how easy it felt to let down his guard around Jaehwan. The still rational part of his brain reminded him that this was Lee Jaehwan, Son of Hades. Nothing good had ever come out of a child of the Underworld. Word of mouth got around. That he was dangerous, a snake, a devious charmer with deeds both notorious and heroic to his name that could be rumor, could be truth.

But no one had ever told him about the Lee Jaehwan that had a smile so genuine that it was contagious, filling him from inside out with the warmth of a spring day. Word of mouth never relayed the easy laughter and gentle nature. He had seemed so honest last night, but he couldn’t simply ignore the fact that Jaehwan was a pretty package with a great, flashing ‘Warning’ sign.

He closed his eyes briefly.

Lee Jaehwan was a conundrum. One that snuck so easily between the cracks until before he even realized, he had weaseled his way past Sanghyuk’s defenses. Had so easily become someone that Sanghyuk already looked forward to spending time with.

He couldn’t quite figure out whether or not Jaehwan would steal away with Sanghyuk’s heart or if hell would rear its ugly head and Jaehwan would turn out to be every inch the monster that Sanghyuk had assumed him to be.

There was only one thing that Sanghyuk was certain of. Jaehwan was the most dangerous person in this group.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Sorry this chapter is late! I'm not 100% sure I can stick to a strict publishing schedule but in general you'll still probably be seeing updates on Wednesday/Saturday  
> -Alas the Hyuken medium burn begins  
> -You can follow me on [twitter](twitter.com/jaehwandred) and [tumblr](chanstraeus.tumblr.com)!  
> -Comments and kudos are super duper appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Warning for brief sexual content

The pair of pink fuzzy dice hung from the rearview mirror, cheerily emblazoned with Las Vegas in horrid comic sans. It had been Wonsik’s idea, but even Wonsik could tell that Hongbin sorely regretted ever indulging the group’s insistence on stopping by Vegas for “just 15 minutes”. 

Hongbin sat beside him, idly humming to the song on the radio, probably noting down the chord progressions throughout the song. He looked lost in thought, his usually stiff aura gone without the presence of Hakyeon and Sanghyuk. 

Wonsik felt a sudden fondness for him, for the Hongbin that was not only bossy and stern, but also the one that stayed up late with his phone screen glowing and plucking soft notes from his guitar. 

Despite the ever looming danger of their quest, it was nice to take a break and to hold soft moments so dearly in his memory. There was a time and place for love that was dramatic, that encompassed whole worlds with its intensity. There was a certain appeal to that, but Wonsik had never craved for it. He had always wanted soft mornings and simplicity and with Hongbin, that was enough. Softness did not equate to weakness; he was more than willing to hand off the sweeping tales of romance to people like Hakyeon, but that didn’t mean that he loved any less fervently.

It was easy to zone out when the road never changed before him, but Hongbin must have noticed his quiet because he reached across and jabbed him hard in the side. 

“The GPS is going crazy,” Hongbin said with the tone of one commenting on the weather.

The small screen, indeed, was having quite an identity crisis. The previously single road began to twist and split on screen. Static filled the small space then the screen went black.

“Cool! I mean, it’s— it’s fine. We don’t need to know where we’re going anyways,” said Wonsik with a sigh. 

“Why can’t we just use your phone?” asked Hongbin.

“Verizon doesn’t believe in actually picking up signal in the ‘south south’.” 

Hongbin snorted, “I don’t think that just because we’re in southern Texas means that this place is any more southern than the rest of the state.”

“Tell that to the three thousandth cow farm we’ve passed in the past hour,” said Wonsik, “We should probably pull over and fix this, huh?” 

“Probably.” 

The Odyssey pulled up to a stop off the nearest exit. The gravels under the wheel crunched as they parked in the undeveloped parking lot. The coastal sage scrub swayed in the slow breeze as the waves lapped at the coarse sand with noncommittal energy. 

Jaehwan poked his head up into the driver’s seat a few moments later. “Are we stopping by to watch the sunset or something?” he asked incredulously. 

“As much as I would like to indulge your romantic tendencies,” said Hongbin, “No, the GPS is just broken and our phones can’t get reception out here.”

“I’m not romantic,” Jaehwan argued and Wonsik found it momentarily strange that that was the thing that he would choose to focus on. 

“Whatever you say,” said Hongbin, the edge of a smile working its way into his voice.

“Why does nothing go right whenever Jaehwan’s around?” griped Wonsik. 

Jaehwan muttered mutinously about their combined bullying and stalked off, perhaps to go complain to Hakyeon. 

Hongbin chuckled. The sun hung low in the sky, casting its rays across the surface of the water, “Maybe he has a point though. We can fix the GPS later, it’s not a big deal. We haven’t had time to do anything for just the two of us in awhile.” 

“We could,” agreed Wonsik as he reached over, idly lacing their fingers together. 

It was quiet for a precious few moments. Hongbin’s handsome silhouette was outlined against a pink and purple sky, his breathing quiet. 

The moment was a type of postcard idyllic.

Until the Odyssey suddenly heaved a shaky breath, its engine whirring, and the alarms crying out before suddenly dying. The lights cut out and the radio died, the power disappearing throughout the car. 

“The hell?” Wonsik moved away from Hongbin, frowning. 

“Ah, seriously, can you really not fix the GPS without killing the car?” asked Jaehwan, poking his head in again. 

Hongbin swatted at him and Jaehwan shoved him away. 

“I didn’t do anything,” Wonsik said, “The car just decided to give up for some reason. I’m not incompetent, though, I’ll fix it somehow, don’t worry.” 

Jaehwan raised an eyebrow, “Right,” he said, “Well, I am going down to the beach with the other two and, well, looks like conveniently I get to leave you two alone to work on the car.” 

“I somehow feel as if we’re getting the short end of the stick,” said Hongbin with resignation, “Whatever. Have fun, don’t drown, don’t get attacked by sharks, etcetera.” 

“I’ll keep them safe, don’t you worry,” promised Jaehwan solemnly, turning away, “Also, I’m leaving you two alone with no interruptions, so you know, have fun, that’s all I’m saying.” 

His grin was decidedly impish as he slipped away to rally the other two. Hongbin rolled his eyes. 

“Little shit.”

— 

Wonsik’s back hit the side of the car with a heavy thud as Hongbin pressed him there, his hands slipping into Wonsik’s back pocket to pull him closer.

“Hey, we need to— “ Hongbin cut him off with an insistent kiss, “actually fix— “ another one, “the car and I hate you.” The words tumbled out of him in a breathless rush. His eyes went half lidded as he regarded Hongbin. 

“I feel like a teenager again,” said Hongbin lowly, the deep rumble of his voice sending shivers through Wonsik. 

“Is that a bad thing?” 

“No,” he said with half a laugh, the glint in his eyes mischievous in the fading light. 

It was sloppy and it was rushed, as most of their escapades were. Hongbin never had the patience for this; it was always ruthless efficiency instead of slow, teasing nights in bed. His lips found the way to the hollow of his throat and left a trail of kisses that barely fluttered over skin. Wonsik moaned, the sound reverberating in his chest. Hongbin sucked hard at the junction where his neck met his shoulders, his hands pressing into Wonsik’s chest.

It became increasingly difficult to maintain a hold on his own thoughts when Hongbin pressed flush against him. There was no certainly no way that Wonsik could miss how hard Hongbin was in his pants and there was no question that Hongbin could feel his arousal as well. 

Hongbin shoved his hand past the waistband of Wonsik’s pants and his knees nearly buckled at the way Hongbin took him. 

Wonsik shuddered as he fell apart beneath Hongbin’s touch. He buried his face in the crook of his neck as Hongbin kissed his forehead, his weight a comforting presence as he waited for Wonsik to pull himself back together. He inhaled deeply. It was the scent that seeped into his old sweatshirts and into their sheets; it was the scent of the sea air, of the deep pine forest, of magic. 

“Are you sure that the Odyssey’s little breakdown was an accident?” asked Hongbin. 

“That hurts, you know. Accusing me of making up excuses just so we can— can do this,” Wonsik stammered and despite it all, he could feel himself getting flustered. How Hongbin could still make him feel like a boy with a schoolyard crush was a mystery that remained to be solved. 

“Cute,” said Hongbin in a tone that bordered on patronizing. 

Wonsik scowled at him, a retort readied but it died in his throat as swiftly as it came. 

Over Hongbin’s shoulder, he saw it. In the day’s last light, a pair of eyes stared back at him. His brain recognized the fact that there was a figure there, but it failed to put the pieces of the puzzle together. His facial features were a blur. They existed in reality and yet, try as he might, he could not have described what it looked like. Only that it stood about as tall as he did and it was human in form. 

Hongbin turned sharply to see what Wonsik was looking at. 

It vanished, leaving only a twin pair of footprints in the sand. 

Hongbin stepped towards where the figure had been and Wonsik felt all the warmth leave him in a rush. 

Wonsik hurried to catch up with him and he grabbed his arm and spun him around, “Are you crazy? I don’t want to mess with— with whatever that thing is without Jaehwan here.”

“We can’t just let it go. We don’t know what that is and we can’t just ignore a threat,” Hongbin said with calm determination. He slipped out of Wonsik’s grasp.

“Let’s go get the others then,” pleaded Wonsik. 

“Because I think that we’ll be fine without them,” Hongbin said, a hint of impatience creeping into his voice, “Jaehwan is not the be all and end all. I think you forget that we’re just as powerful as he is. Don’t you trust me?” 

Wonsik hesitated. 

It wasn’t a matter of trust. It was a matter of not wanting to lose Hongbin, of not wanting to expose themselves to more danger than they had to without Jaehwan’s familiar presence to bolster them. 

But it was true that Wonsik did sometimes forget. He forgot about the blood of gods that ran through his veins just as strongly as it did in Hongbin and Jaehwan. And he had seen Hongbin’s magic, felt the currents of pure energy manifesting in the physical world at the command of one man. 

“I trust you,” Wonsik conceded, “But that doesn’t mean I have to like this.”

Hongbin smiled sweetly and Wonsik internally wondered if he had made the wrong choice by enabling him. But it was always so ridiculously hard to say no to Hongbin. 

The pair of footsteps left in the sad trailed off, glaringly obvious as if it wanted to be found. They lapsed into silence as the sand turned into sparse patches of grass and into the undergrowth. Branches snapped as they trampled over them, the floor littered with dying leaves as the coastal shrubs turned quickly into trees that grew around them and trapped in the darkness. 

Hongbin’s conjured candlelight bobbed along, the white fire hovering obediently by his hand. Dusk fell quickly where light couldn’t enter and they moved further away from the coast. 

The trail suddenly went dead, the footprints vanishing. 

Hongbin spun around, the light throwing sharp shadows onto his face. “It can’t have just disappeared, it has to be around here somewhere.” 

“Hongbin— “ he began, uncertain, “We should just give it up. If it didn’t attack us back then, it could have been harmless.” 

Hongbin made a small noise of frustration at the back of his throat. “I didn’t want to take that chance.”

Wonsik’s hand was light on Hongbin’s back, but Hongbin still flinched at the touch. “Let’s just go back, it’s not worth worrying the others over. It was probably just nothing.” 

He could see in Hongbin’s eyes that he didn’t want to concede defeat, but in the end, he knew that Hongbin would always be won over by the thought of Jaehwan worrying to death, thinking himself around in circles as to where they had possibly gone and if they were still safe. 

He felt more than heard Hongbin’s sigh. 

“You’re right,” he conceded, “Let’s go back.” 

The leaves rustled above them and the moonlight disappeared. Wonsik looked up sharply. Something was blocking it. A bird— an owl? No. Its wings spread imperiously, its eyes nothing like the beady ones of less intelligent creatures. Its beak curved sharp and dangerous.

“An eagle?” asked Wonsik aloud. 

“It’s America. Eagles are free to live anywhere,” said Hongbin. 

“Yeah, but aren’t they supposed to live in the mountains and stuff? I’ve never heard of any coastal eagles.” 

“Why does it matter? I thought you were the one that wanted to get out of here.” 

“Yeah, but— “ The eagle stirred, its great wings spreading across an inky sky. It took flight with a grating screech that was almost unbefitting of a creature who looked so noble. 

Wonsik watched it go for a minute, and with its departure brought dark clouds, rolling in, a steady march. The sky growled in warning, thunder building. It looked like it was going to storm tonight. 

He waited a beat for Hongbin’s sharp voice to berate him for slowing down to bird watch, but it never came. He turned over his shoulder and was faced with an empty clearing. 

Logically, he knew that panic wouldn’t help. And it certainly shouldn’t have been the first response. But in the heat of the moment, there was little he could do to suppress the fear that paralyzed him, rooted him straight to the ground. “Hongbin?” he called into the dark and he swallowed, his throat barely working. He forced himself to move and his heart was pounding now. “Hongbin!” he cried and he was answered with the sound of silence.

A whoosh of wings, the eagle snapped by him, passing inches in front of his face and he spun on the spot and there it was.

The eyes stared back at him steadily from the dark. 

The features of its face were not murky anymore. The moonlight made them crystal clear. The figure from the beach, the one they had been chasing. He would remember that face now for it was the last thing he saw before he was knocked onto his back, the world closing in around him.

— 

The two stragglers came out from the water, thoroughly drenched from the ocean. Hakyeon, being the son of Poseidon, had escaped Sanghyuk’s impromptu decision to start a war in the water. Jaehwan had not been so fortunate. 

Dusk was slow to settle on the beach, with the light seeping into every crevice of the sky, the day reluctant to let go of its hold on earth. Jaehwan had figured that Wonsik and Hongbin would get sidetracked and he was almost certain that they weren’t going to drive any further for the night anyways. He figured it would be nice for them to relax and unwind, anyways. Especially after Hakyeon was still shaken from yesterday’s Minotaur attack. 

Their bare feet left footprints in the sand as they made their way back to their towels.

He watched as Sanghyuk saunter over to Hakyeon, most likely to insult him if his experience over the last week or so had taught him anything.

It seemed as if he was right because Hakyeon’s hand darted out, swift as ever to swiftly hit him in the neck. 

Sanghyuk’s dramatic cry of pain and subsequent retaliation made Jaehwan chuckle. He knew that despite their sometimes antagonistic relationship, Hakyeon cared for Sanghyuk as deeply as he cared for Taekwoon. Instead of fretting over stopping early for the night, Hakyeon seemed content to stay in the moment. 

Hakyeon fussed over him like an older brother might care for a younger sibling. Sanghyuk didn’t seem too fond of this treatment as he snatched the towel from him, aggressively drying his hair. 

The water slid down the toned lines of his body, over the defined lines of his stomach and— Jaehwan looked determinedly away. 

When he looked back, Sanghyuk had thankfully pulled on a shirt. 

He plopped down heavily on the beach towel beside Jaehwan with an amused glance, “Does your hair always get like that after it gets wet?” 

Jaehwan frowned self-consciously, “What’s wrong with my hair?” He asked, patting it, but felt nothing out of the ordinary.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” said Sanghyuk, trying and failing to hide a grin, “Just— your hair gets all fluffy. You look like a puppy.” 

Jaehwan scowled at him and made a valiant attempt to flatten his hair, “I cannot help the fact that my body is actively fighting the cool, nonchalant image I am trying to portray. I mean, I also resent the fact that you are mocking me.” 

“You should probably put on a shirt, then. You look like the passing wind could blow you away and that’s really not doing you any favors,” pointed out Hakyeon unhelpfully as he came to sit beside Sanghyuk, resting his head on his shoulder. 

“I resent that too,” said Jaehwan with a huff, “Poke fun at me if you wish but I think that I make up for it with heart.” 

“Might want to invest in some biceps too,” said Sanghyuk.

“I definitely resent that,” said Jaehwan, holding his hand over his heart, “Why does every conversation with you leave me feeling like I’ve been mortally wounded?” 

“Because, frankly, Sanghyuk is a menace,” Hakyeon supplied. 

“I’ll take it over ‘shithead’ and ‘fucking asshole’” said Sanghyuk cheerily. 

Jaehwan laughed at that, the sound easy and relaxed. If he forgot, for a moment, the prophecy and the quest, it was easy to imagine them on a beach without a worry, with endless drinks and sunburnt noses and bonfires that lasted into the night. He idly wondered if they still would have met without the guiding hand of fate. If there had been no Taekwoon, no visions, if this would still have happened. 

He wouldn’t quite call them friends. That seemed like too definite of a word with a clear definition that entailed getting to know each other over an extended period of time, discovering the others’ likes and dislikes, and inside jokes and group chats. But he wasn’t sure if friendship extended to cover the tentative feelings he harbored for them. He wanted to believe it was so. Hakyeon had always been open to him with a brand of genuine friendliness that he suspected was given to everyone. And Sanghyuk, well, he liked to think that the fact that Sanghyuk wasn’t either actively glaring at him or avoiding him was to be taken as a favorable sign. 

The sun dove with surprising swiftness, the night closing in upon them as pinks and purples turned to indigos and blues. 

The night air was still warm enough that the thought of needing a sweater to weather the slight dip in temperature was frivolous. 

The moon was yellow and full, its belly hanging low in the sky. 

“The Harvest Festival must be coming up,” Hakyeon mused, the thought suddenly striking him. 

Jaehwan shifted imperceptibly closer to Sanghyuk. “I suppose so— Isn’t the moon supposed to be bright enough for even children to play by? It has been awhile since I’ve even celebrated, actually, though I do miss the moon cakes,” he said, “It is still a bit unnerving to only be able to see by the moonlight.”

Sanghyuk raised an eyebrow, turning to him and instead of choosing to comment on the sudden closeness of their proximity, “You’re literally an immortalized hero in most demigod legends and you’re telling me that you’re scared of the dark?” 

His lips quirked up in amusement, “The legends do me too much credit, then. Just because they called me a hero doesn’t mean that I’m very brave.” 

“Never would have guessed that,” said Sanghyuk, “I don’t think I can imagine you actually scared.”

“Truly?” asked Jaehwan, “Ah, well, I suppose that I can be brave when the situation calls for it but for the most part, I am quite the coward.” 

“Oh, what will we do without a mighty protector then,” Hakyeon lamented with the appropriate amount of drama in his voice for theatre, “Really though, I know most of us aren’t exactly useless in battle but besides the expected routine monster attacks, it still feels like there’s something not quite right. Something following us or I don’t know, it’s like I expect to see something when I turn around but there’s never anything there but besides the Minotaur, nothing’s really gone _terribly_ wrong.” 

Jaehwan went quiet for a moment, his gaze a bit sharper than usual, “I had thought that was just me,” he said quietly, “I thought it was simply something that came with being a Son of Hades. My soul will always be bound to the Underworld I— I admit that I ignored it, believing it to simply be unrest there.” 

“Maybe the gods simply don’t approve of this quest,” proposed Hakyeon.

Sanghyuk shook his head, a thoughtful expression on his countenance, “No, I think one of our parents would have sent a bit of a clearer sign, wouldn’t they?”

“I’ve never even spoken to my father so I don’t know,” said Hakyeon. 

“And I am not a remarkable enough son to get my father’s attention either,” shrugged Sanghyuk. 

“My father is usually displeased with me for one reason or another so I think if he were truly upset with our quest, he would make a rather grand gesture and I doubt we have missed it,” Jaehwan said. 

“Well, I guess it would be kinda hard to miss the god of the Underworld’s almighty wrath,” said Sanghyuk with lightness in his tone, “What I do find weird that we’re missing is that Wonsik and Hongbin aren’t back yet. It’s been— what? Three or four hours?” 

“Have we really been out here for that long?” Hakyeon asked. 

Jaehwan glanced at his watch with a frown, “They should have been back by now. I do not think fixing the car is something that would have taken that long and even if the car is dead, they would have come back and told us.”

The Odyssey stood still and stagnant in the distance up the sandy hill. In the light of the moon, the red paint looked faded, as if the night had turned the car into a relic without them noticing. 

“I suppose I could call them,” said Jaehwan, reaching for his phone. 

Then all at once the lights in the Odyssey flared, the headlights flashing in alarm, the interior windows awash with white glow. Then as soon as it came, it was still again, inert and dead.

“Maybe they got the car working again?” said Hakyeon tentatively.

He would have liked to be optimistic and head up the hill with the hope that Wonsik and Hongbin would be waiting to greet them, but he knew better. Jaehwan never asked behind the intricacies of the magical wirings that kept the Odyssey running, but they had told him enough. The car was an intimate piece of magic, only possible with the kind of intense cooperation that Wonsik and Hongbin could manage, but the complexity of the project meant that their magic bled into the car. It wasn’t alive, but it was still its owner’s greatest possession; the Odyssey had flared up in panic then stopped cold. 

“No,” said Jaehwan, shooting Hakyeon down, “That was a warning sign.” 

 

— 

Their towels lay abandoned as they approached the clearing where the Odyssey sat. The lights showed no sign of magically coming to life again to be of any help. 

“Wonsik!” cried Hakyeon, “Hongbin!”

“Be quiet!” hissed Sanghyuk, “That’s not going to help. I really don’t think that they decided to take a nice walk into the woods and conveniently got lost.” 

“That is always a possibility,” Jaehwan muttered, his fingers softly skating the side of the van, “But a very unlikely one.” 

Their three flashlights clicked on, illuminating the dark in front of them. The chill was beginning to sink in and Jaehwan was glad for the fact that they had left the car unlocked so they could grab their sweatshirts. 

“Well, the bright side is that they’re definitely still alive,” said Jaehwan drily, “I’d like for them to still be so when we find them.” 

 

The storm rolled in overhead and the night felt charged full of untapped energy. Three beams of light scanned the ground ahead like sniffer dogs, tracking the faint imprints left on the sand and the trampled grass. 

They lead to the edge of a forest, where the open beach narrowed into a corridor of trees. But instead of following them, Jaehwan stopped squarely in his tracks, muscles tensing. 

Hakyeon ran straight into his back with a muffled oof. “Watch where you’re going!” he chided but was silenced quickly by Jaehwan. 

“Listen,” he commanded, with a finger over his lips and his head turned toward the ocean. 

It seemed deceptively quiet at first, with only the rustle of leaves intermingling with the softness of waves but then they heard it.

“Sirens,” breathed Sanghyuk. 

As the song swelled, so did the waves, once tranquil now crashing up against the jagged rocks out to sea and the sand at shore. And they found themselves being pulled irresistibly toward the intangibility of the sea.

— 

The siren song was distant and Hakyeon was the first to snap out of it, perhaps because of the blood of Poseidon within him. They retreated with haste beyond the bounds of the enchanting music and Jaehwan could feel all of his thoughts rushing back into is too full head. 

He rubbed at the edge of his temple, a headache building with full force behind his eyes. “They must have somehow fallen for the siren song,” he groaned, “Normally that would spell death but— but somehow they’re still alive. Unless my senses have chosen today to fail me, we still have a chance.” 

“What are we supposed to do?” asked Sanghyuk hopelessly. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw it.

The steady pulse of a light seemingly in the middle of the ocean. The waves became beasts barely restrained by magic as they pulled back from the sides of the coast. Jutting out of the rock was a yawning maw, big enough to swallow humans hole and from the cave came fire light, burning unnaturally white instead of with a warm yellow glow. 

Sanghyuk followed his gaze, “You can’t be serious,” he said with the resignation of someone who already knew that Jaehwan was, unfortunately, very serious. 

“Odysseus,” said Jaehwan suddenly, “The sirens— we, well, it would be foolish and dangerous but I’m not sure if we have any other choice.”

“What’re you on about?” asked Hakyeon cautiously.

“He wanted to hear the siren song. The myths say that anyone who survives their song will gain wisdom. They show you your Fatal Flaw. That is assuming that the sirens don’t lure you into the water and brutally kill you first but besides that cheerful thought, in the stories, Odysseus had his sailors tie him up and plug their own ears and he was able to signal to them when the danger passed.” 

“And you think this will actually work?” Sanghyuk asked.

“Unless you have a better idea.” 

— 

The wooden boat sat on the divide between shore and land, a mocking gift for those left to pursue the captured. 

It was a little bit strange and more than a little bit scary to be placing his trust in Hakyeon and Sanghyuk instead of Wonsik and Hongbin. The song had lessened as they approached the shore, working in silence. 

The rope cut tight into his skin, a sharp reminder that kept him grounded to the real world. With a lurch, the boat moved into the water of its own volition. Sanghyuk flinched and Hakyeon’s eyes widened but they made no move to stop the slow and steady progress through the water. The small boat weathered waves it normally would not be able to, peaking over the white foam. 

Siren song pulled men in without them thinking. Jaehwan’s mind slowed to a stop so gradual he didn’t even notice it. His head that was so filled with thoughts just moments ago emptied with an alarming rapidness. 

Then the singing came that filled the void and flooded his senses and suddenly Jaehwan found himself with the inexplicable desire to escape. These ropes on him— why were they here? He jerked, throwing his shoulder out but the restraints wouldn’t give. He had to get down to the water, he had to.

His throat felt uncomfortably dry, like he couldn’t use his own body to form words.  
“Help me,” he rasped, speaking before he even willed it. 

They _had_ to help him. The water— he couldn’t remember why it was important but the water, the water. He needed to get down to the water. They ignored him, even when he struggled and strained so hard the rope dug into his bare wrists, chafing them raw. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted them. How could he have made such a fatal mistake. 

Wonsik and Hongbin would have let him free, helped him get to the water. There was something in the water and he _needed_ it. 

“Let me go” Jaehwan growled and even to his own ears, it sounded far away, not like him. His desperation fell away in little places until anger came roaring in its place. It filled his ears with a hard, ringing sound. 

Jaehwan struggled fruitlessly when his demands fell upon deaf ears. They wouldn’t listen, the water, they didn’t understand. This song they sung, it called to him and they couldn’t hear it, they couldn’t hear the voices telling them that the water was where they needed to be. 

Then suddenly, his mind clicked into place with startling lucidity. 

They hadn’t disarmed him. 

Neither of them showed any sign of noticing that his struggles had suddenly ceased. His dagger of stygian iron cut easily through the rope once he managed to wriggle it out of its sheath. The ropes fell to the floor. 

He stood slowly and the boat rocked with him, pitching perilously under the stormy sky. The clouds gave an almighty rumble, the lightning tapping on the clouds, skittering to and fro, threatening to strike. 

“Jaehwan!” Hakyeon cried out in panic, but he moved too quickly. 

Finally, the water, the water— 

He took the plunge and silence surrounded him. The water pulled him down, his feet dragging with the heaviness of bricks. 

The song stopped. 

Panic filled his chest, robbing him of air he already didn’t have. This was all wrong, he had to get back to the surface.  
There was movement in the water that he couldn’t see. His vision failed him in the dark, he could rely only on the swift currents of water that drove past him, the feeling of scales upon his skin. 

A hand reached through the black and grabbed him, dragging him under. The world, strangely, went white, searing into the black of his tightly closed eyes. 

The water. He was drowning. 

— 

“Jaehwan!” Hakyeon cried, the boat bearing on ceaselessly. Sanghyuk looked helplessly at him. He hesitated, standing at the edge of the boat. He needed to go in after Jaehwan but he couldn’t very well leave Sanghyuk here on his own, easy prey for the sirens or whatever else lurked beneath the surface. He couldn’t explain to him with their ears both still plugged. Hakyeon really hoped that Sanghyuk wouldn’t take this as a murder attempt.

He grabbed Sanghyuk and jumped. 

The water here wasn’t welcoming. Sanghyuk thrashed in his hold and he quickly let him go, parting the water around his head and creating a pocket of air for him before taking his own earplugs out. Underneath the water, the siren song morphed into something dangerous and ugly. It sounded like nails on chalkboard, the caterwaul of a dying animal. It ceased to be something that lured him in. Every part of his body was screaming at him to get out, get out. The water wasn’t safe. This domain wasn’t his.

Sanghyuk still looked a bit disoriented but Hakyeon pressed onward. Only a son of Poseidon would be able to see in these conditions. To Sanghyuk, he must not have been able to even see in front of his very hands. Hakyeon grabbed his wrist. Around him, the sea responded to his silent wishes. A current came and carried them along. The ocean still contained life, a fluttering of a weak heartbeat. He willed the water faster. 

Hakyeon followed the feeling of Jaehwan’s beating heart. He was still alive, thank the gods for that.

This water worked against him. It dragged at him, an attempt to deter him away from his destination. The siren’s cries grew louder, a terrible and frenzied noise. He must be getting closer.

A flick of a tail through the water. His eyes struggled to adjust in the pitch blackness of the water. He could feel Sanghyuk hesitate behind him as the beings materialized in the water. You could call them mermaids, but these weren’t the beautiful ladies of fairy tales. They were naked from the waist up with tails of murky pond green. Their eyes glowed an eerie green, their fangs needle sharp as they sang that horrible, horrible song. They circled a being and Hakyeon pushed past them impatiently. The sirens hissed at him angrily, but kept a careful distance. 

The figure in the center of their circle floated suspended in the water, his head tipped back and his neck exposed. _Jaehwan_. It was an eerily vulnerable position. He already looked dead. 

He felt rather than saw Sanghyuk make an aborted motion behind him. Hakyeon’s heart stopped in his chest as he rushed forward. The sirens gnashed their teeth in protest, circling ever closer. Hakyeon wasn’t having it today. His anger didn’t manifest in roaring fits of rage. It was the culmination of his panic and his worry. The water by his fingertips trembled, a trickle of bubbles escaping to the surface. 

Then without warning, the water exploded with a blast outwards. It sent the sirens flying back, their screams echoing loudly in his head. He clenched his fist, the nearest siren wailing in pain as the water around her boiled scalding hot. It grew even more intense, Hakyeon’s eyes narrowed. The siren’s flesh cooked alive. Her face bulged and her body swelled. The others swam around in a flurry, wanting to come to the aid of their sister but it was too late. Her fate had been sealed. 

The light in her green eyes faded and her body floated limply away. 

The silence afterwards was much more unsettling than their music. As if on cue, the sirens rushed at them, consumed with rage. Hakyeon darted past and grabbed a hold of Jaehwan, pulling Sanghyuk close with him. Jaehwan jerked weakly in his grip. The water rose with them. _Please, please._ It wasn’t fast enough. The water fought against his power and the sirens formed around them. 

He felt his eyes drooping. Their spell drew them under. The circle around them grew tighter and tighter. His head lolled forward, his eyes falling shut against his will. He had to fight it, he must. 

Hakyeon jerked up, like he was waking up from a dream of falling. 

He opened his eyes and a vision swam into place.

“Jaehwan?” he asked tentatively. 

It was Jaehwan but he showed no sign of hearing Hakyeon at all. He looked around. They were on the balcony of a palace, aglow with the palette of a sunset. White curtains billowed like drifting clouds and the whole place spoke of decadence and lounging about on plush sofas, trading gossip over afternoon tea. 

Hakyeon took a step forward and found that his footsteps made no sound. Odd. 

Jaehwan turned suddenly, looking straight at him. No. Looking beyond him. He blinked, his face carefully walled off and he took a step back. 

Hakyeon turned to see who or what it was and he suddenly found himself losing all breath. It was Taekwoon. Or the image of him. He passed right through Hakyeon as if Hakyeon was a ghost. His heart pounded jackhammer fast and despite himself, he could foolishly feel tears well up in his eyes. Just for a tantalizing and brief moment, Taekwoon was there. For a split second, the world was righted again and they had found Taekwoon safe and sound but instead, this Taekwoon strode towards an unmoving Jaehwan.

What was this, then? Was he intruding upon Jaehwan’s own vision induced by the sirens? He knew that he must try to fight back, throw off the spelled sleep that had taken a hold of him.  
But whether it was shock or something else that rooted him to the spot, Hakyeon didn’t know. 

Jaehwan stared at Taekwoon with wide eyes and instead of the hate or reproach that Hakyeon expected from him, his touch was soft and reverent. His hand came up to lightly cup Taekwoon’s face. Even from his distance, Hakyeon could hear everything as if he were listening to their conversation right next to them. 

“How can this be?” Jaehwan asked, his voice wavering. 

“Oh, Jaehwan,” said Taekwoon, his voice holding the kind of intimacy that only came with lovers. The kind of intimacy that Taekwoon used with him. 

Jaehwan’s movements were halting and the heartbreak in his eyes pained even Hakyeon.

“I’m sorry,” said Taekwoon, his voice thick with emotion, “For everything, for all the pain I have caused you. I should have never. I— I love you, my love, you need to know that. After everything, the one thing I can not stand to lose is you.” 

Jaehwan’s defenses crumbled, his eyes shining with a terrible hope. He was so soft, so susceptible, willing to take in every word offered. Even now, he trusted him and the honesty of his words. “Taekwoon— “ The space between them disappeared and he pulled Taekwoon close to him in a crushing embrace, burying his face in the crook of his neck and somehow it seemed far more intimate than if he had kissed him. 

They remained like that for awhile. In this case, their silence was tender. 

Hakyeon almost missed it. The way Jaehwan’s eyes widened suddenly and he staggered backwards. Crimson dripped to the floor and Taekwoon’s eyes remained motionless as he drove the dagger deeper and deeper into his abdomen. 

Jaehwan sank to his knees with little more than a small pained nose. His limbs trembled as he struggled to hold himself up. “Why?” he choked out, “I don’t understand— “ 

Taekwoon loomed above him with a sneer on his face, “Oh Jaehwan,” he said, “You have quite the habit of putting your trust in all the wrong people.” 

The scene faded away, the two figures and the world surrounding them becoming no more than indistinguishable blurs of color. Then suddenly Hakyeon was looking at something else entirely.

Sanghyuk leaned into Jaehwan, his shoulders shaking with the intensity of laughter. They were on the rooftop of the Odyssey, laughing so hard that their stomachs hurt. Hakyeon almost felt as if he were intruding on something he shouldn’t have seen. 

“Come on, just once,” pleaded Sanghyuk, “It’ll be quick and you’ll love it, I promise.”

Jaehwan raised an eyebrow, leaning back on his hands, “Really? Isn’t it a bit late to be traipsing into the woods?” he asked, “Or is this just a poor effort to seduce me,” he said, lowering his voice with a jokingly flirtatious nudge. 

Sanghyuk rolled his eyes, “You’re terrible,” he said, “Don’t you trust me?”

That gave Jaehwan a pause. “I am...fond of you,” he said finally, “Oh, fine, I suppose so.” 

Sanghyuk had gotten his way and his smile was positively devilish. Hakyeon felt a sinking feeling in his gut. He didn’t think this time would go any better either. 

Their feet barely touched the ground. Hakyeon barely blinked and in a split second, Sanghyuk was gone. A great monster was in his place. The great dragon with its lashing tail and poisonous mouth lunged forward. The scene spun around him. Hakyeon didn’t understand. Why was he seeing this? There was no purpose to watching Jaehwan die over and over. Jaehwan’s previous words filtered back to him. 

Those who survived the siren’s song would have great wisdom revealed to them. The chances of doing so, however, were usually so low that what knowledge was revealed was rarely documented. Could this be it, then? Jaehwan’s fatal flaw was— 

Everything slowed and came back to him until Jaehwan was left standing in a blank room, alone, staring straight at him.

His fatal flaw was something that Hakyeon would never even have thought of. It seemed impossible that someone who had been alive for so long would still have the capacity to trust despite everything that the world threw against him and yet, there was Jaehwan who simply trusted too much.

“Hakyeon,” a voice called, sounding strangely far away. “Hakyeon,” it came, more insistent this time. 

 

He jerked awake, blinking the black spots from his vision.

“Hakyeon!” Sanghyuk snapped, his fear clearly agitating him. It seemed as if Sanghyuk had resisted the spell much better than Hakyeon could. “Snap out of it, we need to get out of here. Now.” 

Hakyeon couldn’t tell how long he had been under. A couple of seconds, several minutes? All he knew was that Jaehwan’s heartbeat had begun to slow, no longer a frantic rhythm of terror. It was the lethargic sound of someone on the precipice of sleep.

The sirens came to, realizing that their captives had awoken. Hakyeon wasn’t in the business of falling to his same mistakes twice. Without hesitation, he blasted them away with jets of water barreling straight into their chests. He didn’t need to kill them. They just needed to escape to land. 

The water pulled them up, their ascent quickened by Hakyeon’s haste. The ocean finally decided to honor his request this time around and pushed them up upon the nearest land mass. The relief that Hakyeon felt when his feet finally touched land should be laughable considering his heritage, but all he wanted right now was to be as far away from the water as possible. 

The rain fell thick and heavy on the land as Sanghyuk shook the hair out of his face like a wet dog and Jaehwan coughed weakly, already struggling to sit up. 

“What the fuck?” mumbled Jaehwan unintelligently as he slowly came back to the realm of the living, “I thought— last I remember, we were on a boat.” The last part of his statement was lilted, turning it into a question. “Did I fall asleep?” he asked, looking befuddled, “I just had the strangest dream.”

Sanghyuk’s mouth twisted into a grimace but Hakyeon knew him well enough to know that despite his brusque tone, he was more relieved than he would like to admit to see Jaehwan alive. 

“No, we forgot to disarm you and you decided to take a swim the sirens,” said Sanghyuk. 

“Oh,” said Jaehwan, sounding rather small. Besides looking thoroughly like a drowned rat, he didn’t seem like he suffered too much physical wear and tear. At least the sirens had a penchant for toying with their prey before killing them. Small mercies. “I am sorry,” he said quietly, “I should have thought of a more sound plan.” 

“Don’t be,” Hakyeon said, shooting Sanghyuk a hard look, “What matters it that we’re all fine. For the most part.” 

He looked up and upon meeting Jaehwan’s eyes, he quickly looked away. What he had seen— did Jaehwan know that he had intruded? Had they even seen the same thing? Or was his subconsciousness just fooling him? 

“Hakyeon,” said Sanghyuk urgently, “Have you realized where we are?” 

In his preoccupied state of mind, he hadn’t even bothered to look around. The sand quickly gave way to smooth rocks pebbling the shore then turned into smooth stone. A cave opened up before them, the blackness broken by a dancing flame. 

It was their original destination all along. As soon as Jaehwan realized that as well, he scrambled to his feet, still seeming a bit shaky. “Wonsik and Hongbin,” he said, dropping his voice to something barely above a whisper. 

Apparently disregarding the fact that he had literally just been abducted by sirens and somehow made it out alive, Jaehwan walked onward with a determination that was purely his. He would almost think him foolhardy if he hadn’t realized that he would do the exact same for Sanghyuk.

The dripping water echoed loudly in the confined space, which contained nothing else besides the sounds of a crackling fire. The flames danced in the middle of a sunken pit and toward the end of the cave sat two bound figures. 

Jaehwan rushed forward, splashing through the water that congealed on the floor of the cave. The thunder sounded much more menacing as the rain outside picked up, the winds whipping a storm into a frenzy. 

Hakyeon let out a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding. They were alive. 

He turned and even the hard lines of Sanghyuk’s body relaxed. Perhaps he had been thinking the same thing as Hakyeon had. Despite everything, they had made it out alive. Wonsik and Hongbin were alive. Things could have gone much worse. 

Lulled into complacency, it was easy to miss the appearance of a sixth body in the room. 

Sanghyuk walked over to join Jaehwan and he could hear him quietly saying something about asking Apollo for a favor of healing. Jaehwan looked a little surprised by Sanghyuk next to him but he nodded with a soft smile. 

Hakyeon was glad for that, at least. Sanghyuk, at the very least, seemed to be letting go of his initial distrust for the Son of Hades. He felt like a bit of a proud mother. With the way their relationship was developing, he wouldn’t be entirely surprised if Sanghyuk eventually realized that he was developing feelings for him. But as much as he would like to meddle, he knew that Sanghyuk certainly wouldn’t appreciate it. 

The fire flickered as the wind blew through, cutting through Hakyeon’s clothing and chilling him to the bone. 

Lightning flashed, the cave filling with blinding white for half a second. The shadows in the room moved and the flames quieted, overpowered by the storm outside. From the back of the cave came one more. 

Hakyeon froze and he felt a chill run through his body, dread seizing up his heart. He tried to warn Jaehwan, but the words died in his throat. He couldn’t explain it, why he reacted this way to someone he should have been overjoyed at seeing. 

It seemed as if their moment of peace had vanished. In the relief that swept them away, they forgot that Wonsik and Hongbin hadn’t ended up here in their own volition. 

“Hakyeon, do you have— ?” Sanghyuk froze, his eyes widening as he stared up at the tall, lean figure that stood beside him. The look in his eyes was downright feral in direct contrast to his prim and proper dress.

Jaehwan turned to see what Sanghyuk was looking at. All at once, fear, anger, and hatred flit across his face but then cleared abruptly to be replaced with a blank face save for the utter blackness of his eyes. 

But Taekwoon had only eyes for Hakyeon. He smoothly ignored the others and strode forward, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

“Hello, lover,” he said with an easiness so at odds with the choking tension in the room, “Remember me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -This chapter wasn't supposed to take this long but real life kind of got in the way so there's that  
> -October is a super busy month for me in terms of the real world so I'm not sure how soon the next update will be  
> -Thank you to my beta reader as well as all those still following and leaving kudos/comments! I couldn't do this without your support  
> -You can follow me on [jaehwandred](twitter.com/jaehwandred) and [tumblr](chanstraeus.tumblr.com) for updates!  
> -Comments and kudos are super appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

_It was the December solstice. That much he remembered._

_The rooftops below were crowned with snow. Taekwoon sat cross legged on the top of the gently rolling hills and Jaehwan leaned against him, his head on his shoulder. Their town was safe for now. A battle with the chimera that had been terrorizing the town was a fine way to begin winter in Jaehwan’s opinion. They had spent the day being paraded through the streets, raised with laurels on their heads. Children raced around them, the air filled with the scent of cooking meat and the cobble of hooves hitting the ground. But when all was said and done, Jaehwan preferred it like this. He loved the stillness and peace he shared with Taekwoon._

_“Rest,” Taekwoon said softly._

_Try as he might, even when he closed his eyes, his heart still felt like it was running a marathon. “I am still a bit worked up from,” he gestured vaguely, “everything that happened. It’s nice, is it not? Well, I suppose you are used to such lavish ceremonies. But I have never experienced this— all of this praise instead of fear.”_

_Taekwoon gave him a rare smile at that, “And there will be more. Did you not hear? The prophecies said that we’ll be the greatest heroes even past our time.”_

_Jaehwan surveyed the town below them. It might be small and insignificant in the grand scheme of trade routes and kingdoms, but to him, it was his world, his home. As much of a home could be before he was whisked away to a palace with Taekwoon. Admittedly, he was usually not quite the optimist that Taekwoon was. But today, he would humor him. Just once._

_“Ah, yes,” said Jaehwan in a grandiloquent voice, “And we will make this world ours.”_

_“Ours?,” Taekwoon asked._

_Jaehwan smiled indulgently, “Just us and the world.” His voice was fond as he looked up. And oh, it took his breath away. How regal Taekwoon looked framed against the clear sky. He looked at Taekwoon and saw the sun. Taekwoon had always looked at Jaehwan and seen the moon._

— 

_The battle died, heaving its last death rattles in a ferocious clash between the generals._

_It was late October, unusually balmy for autumn. The rain beat down hard and fast, and yet, Jaehwan still gagged from the thick, clotting smell of blood. He had sheathed his sword before their comrades came rushing forth, shouting their praises. While Taekwoon’s face remained blank with perhaps a tint of pride, Jaehwan simply felt tired, drained. He wanted to get away, to get out of this place of destruction as soon as he could.  
He put his head down and picked his away across the battlefield of rotting corpses, left there after days of fighting. He didn’t want to think about how the dismembered arm he stepped over once belonged to a living body, one that laughed and breathed and talked as he did. _

_Jaehwan was a fool to once have believed that he was cut out for this. Prophecies and legends be damned. He had run into everything head first with a head full of fantasies of dying like a martyr. But now—_

_“Jaehwan,” a light, lyrical voice called across the battlefield._

_He ignored it, not bothering to turn and look. Taekwoon would catch up to him later. He had a retinue to attend to._

_“Jaehwan,” came the voice closer, more insistent._

_Taekwoon grabbed his hand and Jaehwan froze._

_Amidst it all, Taekwoon only had eyes for Jaehwan. Perhaps— ? Jaehwan turned around, finally, letting his guard down. He was so exhausted._

_Up close, Taekwoon didn’t look too much better. He was covered in blood, none of it his own, and without the crowd, he no longer quite looked the part of a shining hero. But Jaehwan knew better. Taekwoon could look like the world had beaten him down and he would still get back up again, ready to fight another day and ready to win. Between the two of them, they had become a force that the world had learned to fear. Even the mightiest fell beneath their swords. Only the gods did not cower before them now. But at what cost?_

_The living feared Taekwoon and even the dead feared Jaehwan. The world knelt at their feet._

_But then he took in Taekwoon’s sunken eyes and his bloodied skin and Jaehwan wondered if all of this was even worth it._

— 

Uncertainty filled the room until Jaehwan felt as if he would suffocate under the weight of it. Hakyeon stood frozen, caught in between his desire to run and fall into the familiar embrace of his lover’s arms and his fear of whatever Taekwoon had become. All the color had bled out of his face. Honestly, he looked like he was going to faint. Jaehwan had crafted so many words for Taekwoon, had prepared to greet him with forgiveness. But maybe that was beyond the scope of the growth and wisdom Jaehwan had gained throughout the years Paradoxically, in the face of it all, Jaehwan found that he had nothing to say to Taekwoon. 

Perhaps it was because of what he had seen, what the Sirens revealed. He couldn’t guess at their purpose, but if the Sirens were supposed to reveal crucial information to the survivors of their song, perhaps it was a vision of foreshadowing. And of who he could not trust. 

Sanghyuk was on his feet faster than Jaehwan ever thought to give him credit for. On the contrary, Jaehwan rose slowly and deliberately from where he had been crouching. 

“Taekwoon,” came Hakyeon’s voice, his face full of a sad and desperate hope, “Why— what are you doing? Why are you doing all this?”

In the firelight, Taekwoon’s eyes shone an unnatural gold just for a moment. Then it was gone, his stormy dark eyes dancing with the flickering flames. The thunder’s deep bass sounded outside, like the beating of drums. 

“Someone as simple minded as you would not understand,” Taekwoon sneered, the indifference in his voice cutting cold as ice. His sardonic tone hardened into something else as he turned away from Hakyeon. The dismissal stung, and that much was clear on Hakyeon’s stricken face. 

Jaehwan’s casual stance straightened, lifting his head as Taekwoon strode across the room to him. Because walking wasn’t for someone like Taekwoon. No, he strode like royalty, unhurried and imperious, and it set Jaehwan even more on edge. 

“And Jaehwan,” said Taekwoon with the start of a laugh in his voice, “What curse has plagued you that you might end up with such company?” 

He bristled at the words, his jaw clenched tight. Sanghyuk moved slightly in front of him in a defensive position. but that would do him no good, for Taekwoon’s eyes were piercing enough to stab to the heart of the matter. Even now, it felt like nothing had changed. Jaehwan still felt like he was being pinned in place. 

“How did you fall so far to end up on a quest such as this? Surely you have had enough experience to know that an undertaking like this was doomed to fail from the start no matter your experience and what the prophecies tell you,” Taekwoon said, his voice soft, but nonetheless dangerous, “Prophecies hold only as much power as you let them and it looks as if you have not changed since all those centuries ago. You are foolish and naive to let yourself be lead on by a vision so vague it was not even foreseen by a true oracle.” He paused, his gaze passing over the spelled forms of Hongbin and Wonsik, but lingering on Hakyeon, on Sanghyuk. “And how easily you are fooled by false promises.” 

Jaehwan froze, his eyes locking with Taekwoon. How could he have known? Or was it just a lucky guess that always made it seem that Taekwoon knew him so intimately he could read him inside and out and guess at his thoughts, his feelings. It was always impossible to hide from him.   
He felt the blood rushing to his head and roaring past his ears. What was this, then? This felt too elaborately planned for them to have walked straight into Taekwoon, but for all intents and purposes, Taekwoon didn’t seem like he was even going to harm them. Not Wonsik or Hongbin. And not Hakyeon or Sanghyuk. 

The vision felt too fresh in the forefront of his mind. He trusted Hakyeon and Sanghyuk, but even he had to admit that was probably only because it was in his nature. But Sanghyuk was wary of him from the beginning and Hakyeon, well, Hakyeon was only in this all to find Taekwoon again and now with his goal in reach, he had no reason to not have used Jaehwan and vanish without payment. His head swam, muddled with too many thoughts bouncing off of each other in too confined of a space. Everything was a mess, his senses dulled from the siren’s spell as if he were suffering from too many nights of too little sleep. What was Taekwoon implying, then? 

Sanghyuk shifted uncomfortably, his eyes widening slightly when he realized what Taekwoon was getting at. That Wonsik and Hongbin were captured because of a ploy, the sirens— Jaehwan hadn’t even been in control of his own will at the time; he had trusted them, and he had almost ended up drowning because of that. 

Taekwoon’s words sowed themselves into Jaehwan’s mind like an insidious poison, “Why should you trust them? When everything that’s happened so far has put you in danger, not them?” 

He felt the pull in his words, almost as if they were spelled. It was so much easier to fall into the lull of the familiarity that Taekwoon offered. The vision and his words— No, Jaehwan wouldn’t fall into this. He turned away sharply, breaking eye contact. The siren’s vision was a smoky veneer, but what he knew of Taekwoon was concrete and set in stone. There was no returning from Taekwoon’s betrayal, even if it was in a past life and was a sin that Jaehwan had thought that he had forgiven. 

Jaehwan jerked his head away sharply. He broke eye contact with Taekwoon. His own thoughts clamored to be heard above Taekwoon’s words. He could feel the pressure mounting beneath his temples, a headache growing like a roaring storm.

“If you’re implying that we just tried to _kill_ Jaehwan, you’re wrong,” Sanghyuk challenged, squaring his shoulders, “ _You’re_ supposed to be dead, and yet, we find you in a cave with our friends unconscious. How are you supposed to explain that?” 

Jaehwan privately wondered if Sanghyuk was suicidal to be talking to Taekwoon in such a tone. The old fear of reprimand returned without him even noticing. 

Taekwoon’s eyes narrowed, the fire dancing in his irises. Sanghyuk had a point, though. Jaehwan felt, with a small rush of fear through his body, how easy it had been to believe in Taekwoon again. The situation was entirely stacked against Taekwoon’s favor. Andyet, he had been so easily lured back in and without Sanghyuk’s voice of reason, perhaps he would have fallen in again. 

Taekwoon’s laugh was breathy and careless, the corner of his mouth uplifted, “This one has some semblance of intelligence I see. Something you lack in spades.”

Jaehwan remained silent. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sanghyuk readying another remark, but the look that Hakyeon sent him rendered him mute. Hakyeon’s expression had turned from wretched to calculating. Jaehwan knew heartbreak over the centuries well enough to know that ignoring it was only a temporary method of coping, but he also knew that if there was one other person here that knew Taekwoon on even half the level he did, it was Hakyeon. 

They shared a look.

Yes, Taekwoon was capable of being arrogant, cold, and pragmatically ruthless, but this was none of those things. 

“You are not the Taekwoon I once knew,” said Jaehwan, finding his voice again, “Whatever— whatever happened to you is not our problem. We are taking Wonsik and Hongbin and we are leaving. If you try and stop me, you know that I can put up more of a fight than you are willing to take on.” 

Taekwoon’s expression darkened and in response, Sanghyuk looked more and more like he was raring for a fight. “Of course I have changed,” said Taekwoon with a voice that was quiet yet as dangerous as a knife in the back, “The world has changed much since our time, we are not immune to corruption. Do you not feel it, Jaehwan? How simple our time was and how convoluted everything is now?” He barked a bitter laugh, turning away to pace the length of the floor, a habit strikingly familiar until Jaehwan suddenly realized that it was a habit he had picked up from himself. 

His voice was barely louder than Jaehwan’s softest, but it seemed to fill the whole room with its momentum, building and spiraling. “Surely you have noticed. The disappearances, the unrest in the world?” And he knew that he had all of their attention now. Beneath Sanghyuk’s adrenaline fueled anger, reluctant curiosity shone through on his face. Hakyeon went perfectly still. “The Doors of Death are open. I am not the only one or the only thing to have come back. The world is changing once more, Jaehwan, and I am afraid you have found yourself on the wrong side of the battle.” 

Jaehwan blinked and stared at him in disbelief, “No,” he rasped out weakly, “They can’t be. That— that isn’t possible,” he took a step back, “Don’t fuck with me like this.” 

“The Doors of Death?” inquired Sanghyuk tentatively, “Jaehwan, what is he talking about?” 

“Think about it,” prodded Taekwoon, “Everything makes sense now. You would have realized that something was amiss long ago if only you had not blinded yourself to reality.” 

He closed his eyes. Not a memory, an image compiled from tales stolen from the dead. Doors of Stygian Iron, black and silver designs snaking up their grand scale. Metal closing in. The quick plummet of down, down. The licking flames of Tartarus.

“It’s what’s keep the world of the living from the dead,” interjected Taekwoon, “Without their guardian, there is nothing that will keep monsters dead nor even humans.” 

“Thanatos,” whispered Hakyeon. 

“God of peaceful death,” muttered Jaehwan, mostly to himself, “Taekwoon,” he could feel the horror creeping into his voice, “What have you done?” 

Taekwoon scoffed at that with a shark’s smile, “You think that I alone have that much power behind me?” The cave seemed to grow smaller as his shadow on the wall grew, overwhelming the light while he advanced toward them. “Even a god would be foolish to challenge me now. Gaea is the beginning and end of all things. From ashes to ashes and dust to dust, this world will change.” 

Bemused silence fell upon the three as the information sank in. Taekwoon’s eyes seemed to be alight with madness and unnatural golden glow, drunk on otherworldly power.

“Holy shit,” said Sanghyuk finally with a tone so incredulous it was almost enough to make Jaehwan laugh, “You’re actually fucking crazy.” 

Taekwoon’s attention snapped to him eerily fast, and it certainly wasn’t just Jaehwan’s imagination now that he saw his eyes, usually a stormy dark brown, filled with light, golden and radiant. But it wasn’t the glow of a summer day; this was a fire that threatened to burn everything in its path. “My patience is waning,” he said plainly, but Jaehwan knew better than to ignore the implicit danger in his words, “I suggest that you watch your tone.”

“Alright, well, I suggest that you get out of the way because we,” Sanghyuk gestured to him and Hakyeon,”are getting out of here.” Jaehwan could already feel the panic rising and yet was almost helpless to stop it when Sanghyuk sauntered over to the unconscious forms of Wonsik and Hongbin and calmly beginning to undo the restraints. 

Hakyeon made a small choked noise at the back of his throat, and it took genuine effort on Jaehwan’s behalf to not echo his sentiment. 

Taekwoon lunged forward with a swiftness that was hard to track with the naked eye. And several things happened at once. 

It was easy to compartmentalize all of his emotions when he had to focus on the glimmer of celestial bronze materializing from the air and into Taekwoon’s hand. The air filled with the energy of an electrical simmer. Jaehwan’s mind never registered how he got from where he was standing to in front of Sanghyuk, kicking Taekwoon’s legs out from under him. 

The ground split open and Jaehwan retrieved his own weapon, his dagger of Stygian iron flipping up in the air and returning in his hand as a sword. In the second it took for Taekwoon to regain his bearings, Jaehwan slammed his foot on top of Taekwoon’s chest, holding him there and his sword poised and ready to swing. 

Resistance came from a source that Jaehwan hadn’t even remembered to count. His sword was wrenched from his hand and he was pushed forcefully back, staggering with his back to the fire and Hakyeon was there with determination so deep set in his expression that even Jaehwan had second thoughts of crossing him. 

“You will _not_ ,” snapped Hakyeon. Before Jaehwan could even protest, Taekwoon regained his footing in one smooth motion.

“Hakyeon get out of the way,” snapped both voices at once. With a quick jolt to his system, he realized that it was Taekwoon who had spoken the same words he did. In that moment, he could see the emotion in Taekwoon’s eyes flicker, something of the old yearning to come through, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. 

“This is not the Taekwoon that we know,” said Jaehwan quietly, his eyes intensely calculating. 

They stood, face to face. How befitting it was of them to pick up right where they left off with more bloodshed. As if reading his mind, “I’ve already killed you once before, Jaehwan,” his sword filled the room with sunlight so glaringly bright it was difficult to look at. “Don’t think that I won’t do it again.”

Hakyeon jumped out of the way in the nick of time, Taekwoon’s glowing gold sword coming down and Jaehwan countering it. Their weapons clashed against each other, muscles trembling in equal effort to hold the other off. Jaehwan’s black sword jumped suddenly to life, the moonlight streaming in through the opening of the cave and striking it silver. Beneath his hand, his sword vibrated. He swore with some choice words beneath his breath. Even after all these years, it seemed as if Taekwoon hadn’t parted with his original weapon either. Their swords, forged of the same flame, were weapons that mirrored their own souls. They were twin weapons, made to fight side by side, not to be pitted against each other. 

The combined energy of both swords grew and grew, manifesting into a fiery heat that seemed to threaten to consume everything whole. Taekwoon’s eyes cut sharp into him across the sparks. “You didn’t even fight back,” he sneered, “Coward.” 

Something in Jaehwan broke.

Their swords sprang apart with the high pitched grating of metal on metal. He struck again and again, throwing his body and effort only to be countered calmly blow for blow. Rationally, Jaehwan knew that this wouldn’t win him anything, but the anger threatened to consume his senses and leave him deaf and blind. 

“Enough of this,” chided Taekwoon, stepping effortlessly aside to avoid another strike, “This is pointless. I will always be stronger than you,” Jaehwan lunged at him, “And you have no chance of besting me.” 

“You’re wrong,” snapped Jaehwan, struggling to choke back the wave of anger that rose in him, “You think that being a better fighter is all that has ever come in between us?” Their fight stalled to a deadlock, neither making any true advances. Words were snapped at each other in the back and forth in between sword swings and Jaehwan hated to admit it, but Taekwoon’s words always had a way of getting to him. Whether it was his honey reassurances or his insidious barbs that snuck into the back of his mind, he wasn’t even sure if Taekwoon was aware that his words were the most dangerous part of him. 

“Of course not,” he said breezily, “You have simply always been the one destined to be forgotten.” 

The fire inside him flared again but instead of the ruthless, heavy attacks he had charged with earlier, he funneled his energy into clear focus. It was this kind of mindset that carried him through battles that toiled for hours and disintegrated his muscles and mind while his sword cut through countless men.

In a minute change in expression, he saw Taekwoon’s eyes slightly widen. This was Jaehwan turning their skirmish from a banter with words to a genuine duel. His cut thrust attack was met with Taekwoon turning it against him, working with the momentum instead of resisting it. 

And everything fell into familiar courts again. Taekwoon fought with layers of deceit, as if he planned every move months in advance. Their battles were carefully laid out games of chess where checkmate meant a sword across your throat. His opponent's’ downfall usually came in that they expected to be able to read Taekwoon’s patterns and shifts and respond accordingly, but with Taekwoon, the expected always dissolved into something else entirely. Jaehwan knew to read him better than that. 

When Taekwoon attacked, Jaehwan was ready. He turned Taekwoon’s attack back on him with an easy grace and a series of quick parries that was so distinctive of his own style that he almost wondered why he gave up a lifestyle of this. 

Taekwoon’s face darkened and the storm outside grew. The torrential downpour of rain slammed against the rocks as anger seeped into his swordsmanship. But even with Taekwoon’s mistakes, his wasted strength and discombobulated lines, Jaehwan still found himself putting all of himself out there to hold him at bay. His lack of physical strength and build compared to Taekwoon showed. Full strength blows straight to his sword would be too much. Would be lethal blows were turned aside with a sharp exhale of Jaehwan’s breath in carefully angled parries and a shift of momentum here and a change in weight there. 

He made a low sound of frustration that had Jaehwan on edge. If Taekwoon had landed any of those blows, there was no doubt in his mind that he would be lying on the floor, dead. (Again.) But Jaehwan had wised up and Taekwoon was falling victim to his own mistakes, swinging furiously wide and making it easy for Jaehwan to see it coming and to step away. 

The force of the blow threw Taekwoon momentarily off balance. In the second that it took him to recover, Jaehwan hesitated. And that was his first mistake. 

He couldn’t quite recall the sequence of events that eventually ended with him on the floor, the wind knocked out of his chest and his head pounding. A line of red ran along his sword arm and a drop fell and stained the grey stone floor. 

“Get up,” came the imperious command. 

Jaehwan’s chest rose and fell erratically and he gritted his teeth. If Taekwoon thought that this would be easy enough that he could toy with him, he would be proven quite wrong. He kept his eyes on Taekwoon, picking his sword up slowly. For the first time, he wondered if they would actually kill each other if they were given the chance tonight. 

This was their best sword work at play and Jaehwan could catch glimpses of drills and techniques learned so long ago. Everything else ceased to exist. This was between him and Taekwoon.

Their sword teacher, a croaking old man, had never seen the Taekwoon that emerged on the battlefield. He stitched together everything he was taught in the arena and unleashed it upon his enemies with no honor. There was nothing clean or seamless about the way that Taekwoon attacked with a frenzy that grew upon itself and wore down even the most dedicated of opponents. Jaehwan never had a hope of keeping up if Taekwoon was like this. 

Then suddenly, it dawned on him. Taekwoon’s goal had changed. He wasn’t here to kill him. He wanted to break him. 

If Jaehwan wanted any chance of getting out of here alive and with the rest of them, he would have to end this quickly and decisively.

The adrenaline kept him going through his pounding head and the steady stream of blood stinging from his arm and the cut on his forehead. But Taekwoon hadn’t come out of it unscathed either. His breathing was labored and the thinned material of his shirt had been cut through and Jaehwan’s sword had made, at the very least, a surface cut on his abdomen. 

They broke apart with the space between them filled with unspent scathing words and more exchanged blows. In that moment, he was keenly aware of Hakyeon and Sanghyuk’s eyes on them. 

He didn’t know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t for Taekwoon to take advantage of the momentary lapse to charge at Jaehwan. But not with the blade of his weapon as he had expected him to do. Swifter than he could react, the hilt of his sword came bearing down upon his forehead and the world exploded in a cacophony of color and black and everything began to spin out of focus. Panic clawed at his chest as he fell back to the floor. 

Jaehwan felt consciousness slip from him as sand slid unstopped through his fingertips. He had no time to think, but he had enough time to make a choice fueled only by instinct and a will to live that was stronger than death. 

He drove his blade upwards, with more energy than he could have naturally physically mustered. His blade of Stygian Iron glowed an ethereal silver in contrast to the enraged golden glow of Taekwoon’s eyes. 

The garbled scream was utterly feral, and despite himself, Jaehwan felt a shiver run through his body. He fought not to gag at the sight of a stream of blood flowing out of the wound he created, the thick and heavy feel of it staining his own clothing. Jaehwan scrambled to get away, his limbs trembling.His sword fell limply out of his hand and he sat up quickly with blackness replacing vision and a wholly unwelcome wave of nausea overwhelming him. 

Taekwoon’s unconscious form fell to the ground in a heap and Jaehwan shut his eyes tightly.

Hakyeon let out a noise that was half a moan of despair and a cry of anger. He fell to his knees beside Taekwoon, the barely restrained anger in his voice coming out with the tense lines of his body, the intensity of his eyes. “You— “ he cut himself off, his jaw clenched, “You killed him. This— this didn’t have to end in violence and yet, and yet— “ 

He felt a tightness in his chest that he couldn’t explain, and even if he had found the words in the moment, he didn’t think that he would have been able to speak. Sanghyuk moved slowly, as if he were afraid of scaring off a particularly skittish animal. He knelt beside Hakyeon, the only semblance of calm in the aftermath of a storm. He took Hakyeon’s wrist, and with a gentleness that betrayed his previous harshness against Taekwoon, he guided his hand to Taekwoon’s pulse point, over the left side of his chest. Sanghyuk didn’t look particularly enthused about his words, but they were for Hakyeon, not for himself, “Still alive.” 

Jaehwan let out a shaky breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. Hakyeon’s eyes glimmered in the firelight with unshed tears, his sniffle painfully loud in the space as the storm outside died down. The thunder sounded less menacing, fading away to the sky’s discontented grumble and the pitter patter of rain. 

He found it hard to focus on any one thing at once when his head felt like it was ready to split open at the seams, but they couldn’t remain here any longer. It wasn’t safe. “We need to get out of here,” he said, hating how his voice wavered, any illusion of strength gone.

Sanghyuk’s tone was brisk and businesslike, though not without sympathy, “Leave him here Hakyeon,” and before the other could protest, “Frankly, even if he does end up dying. I don’t think he’ll stay that way for long.” 

A strange look overcame Hakyeon as if he knew that pragmatically, Taekwoon in his current state was a danger to them all. But it wasn’t quite fair to leave Taekwoon suffering unduly. He might have felt the same way if it weren’t for the fact that he had just tried to mortally wound him. 

“Jaehwan, can you walk?” asked Sanghyuk.

He moved his leg experimentally. His limbs seemed to be in working order. The sharp sting that ran down the side of his right arm was a nagging pain but it was nowhere close to the throbbing in his head that threatened to overwhelm him. He could walk, though. Probably. “We’ll see,” he joked weakly. 

It was painstakingly slow, but Jaehwan eventually found his wobbly way to his feet. It seemed improbable that just awhile ago, he was locked in fierce battle with one of the few people that could ever truly match his skill and cunning. The thought of doing anything more than standing up and maybe attempting to walk a few steps unaided seemed worlds away.

His first attempt at a steady step forward almost ended up with him on the ground again had it not been for Sanghyuk there to catch him, his arm around his waist and his body a supporting presence. “Okay, nevermind,” he said quickly, but he could see in the deep furrow of his brow that the situation at hand was a bit more stressful than he let on, “I can deal with this, just— just rest and stay out of the way.” 

The brusqueness of his tone stung a bit and the natural quickness of his temper rose to the occasion, egging Jaehwan to snap back, but he bit his tongue. The more rational part of his mind that was struggling to function reminded him that pressure changed Sanghyuk and he probably wasn’t even aware of how his tone came off. 

So, against every instinct Jaehwan found himself leaning against the hard stone wall as Sanghyuk micromanaged everything in his place. 

“Hakyeon we need to retrieve the boat,” Sanghyuk said, looking out of the cave opening where the seas began to calm, “Do you have your dagger? I need to, you know, actually get Wonsik and Hongbin out of here.” 

Hakyeon tossed him his dagger, bronze and oddly reflective, before silently slipping outside to greet the salty ocean air. Sanghyuk worked with a slight frown on his face as the dagger encountered more resistance from the ropes than he had thought, but eventually, the last of them fell to the floor. Though Hongbin and Wonsik still remained thoroughly unconscious. There was no sign of much physical harm to them. A spell, probably. Jaehwan’s overly exhausted mind jumped ahead, sorting through his years of experience for possible solutions to the problem, but he wasn’t Hongbin or admittedly very well versed in the skill of healing. His mind drew a frustrating blank. 

By the time Hakyeon returned, with wind tousled hair and a tired look in his eyes that ran past their long night, the sun crept over the edge of the horizon, purples and reds heralding the dawn of a new day. Jaehwan supposed that the sight should have inspired some sense of hope in him, but instead, the brightness that seeped into the cave only worsened his headache. 

None of them spoke of how eerie it was to have Wonsik and Hongbin in the boat as unresponsive as corpses. And not a word was spoken when they finally left the cave. Jaehwan could feel it with an instinct borne deep in his soul. The decisive cut of the thread of life and the stilling of a heartbeat. He didn’t know if the others could feel it or if they noticed the sharp intake of his breath. Taekwoon was dead.

They left the cave behind. He had been told that the gods could delay the moon’s course across the sky if they so wished, drawing out the course of one night so that it felt like many. This night had been one of those nights where too much happened in too little time. The passage of time felt unreal, somehow as the boat moved away from shore away from the sun. The waves were senile and harmless, brushing up against the flimsy wood of the boat. He was unsure of whether that was more of Hakyeon’s doing, or if in the aftermath of the storm, even the ocean could not conjure up the energy to be ferocious again.

Jaehwan could feel the heaviness of his eyelids threatening to close against his will. Consciousness felt more like the ebb and flow of the tide more than a constant. His vision settled briefly on Hakyeon’s dagger sheath. It was empty. He chanced a look back at the cave. 

The glint of metal winked at him, a momentary sparkle in his eye. 

He blinked blearily back. 

Then suddenly, everything came crashing down. The earth rumbled and the roar would have been deafening if they hadn’t already been halfway back to solid land. 

Hakyeon made a small yelp of surprise and they all turned around to watch in rapt fascination. The cave was crumbling in upon itself. The roof fell first, splitting into large boulders that tumbled down and crashed against each other. Then just like that, it was over. The previous gaping opening of the cave was filled and blocked with rocks so tightly interlocked that there was no way any human could have a chance of getting in or out. 

Oddly, his first thought was of Taekwoon, left there in a cold and silent eternity forever.

Jaehwan chased the thought away.

But with the thought of Taekwoon came a whisper of a memory. Taekwoon’s previous nonsensical rambling from before came back as an echo. Gaea. Primordial goddess of the earth, born of chaos and the first of matter.

In his days of childhood from long before, Jaehwan had been taken hunting. He was never very good at it and in an ironic twist, hadn’t been very good at dealing with the death of animals. It had been him, Taekwoon, and the king. They had pulled up their horses when Taekwoon had speared a boar. He had been on a fiery chestnut gelding who had reared in protest when they had wanted to rein to a stop. 

Sometimes a boar was able to break free and escape or sometimes it still had the strength to snap the wood of the spear. But that day, it didn’t and the kill was theirs. The king had told them, his voice pitched low, that you could never take your eyes off a wounded boar. It was imperative to finish the fight for it was in its weak and wounded state that a boar was the most dangerous animal of them all.

The thought refused to be chased away the whole way back. But the pull of restless sleep was stronger. Jaehwan’s eyes fell shut to the rhythm of waves on shore. His head came to a rest on Sanghyuk’s broad shoulder, neck craned at a slightly awkward angle but Sanghyuk had no words of protest. He kept a vigilant watch, his breathing deep and even. Jaehwan slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Sorry this chapter is a little shorter than the others but midterms this month and general school shenanigans have kept me from writing  
> -Comments and kudos are super appreciated!  
> -You can follow me on [twitter](twitter.com/jaehwandred) and [tumblr](chanstraeus.tumblr.com) for updates!


	6. Chapter 6

The dawn settled into an uneasy afternoon. Even though Hakyeon had gotten several hours of sleep that morning, he was up and awake with an alarming amount of intensity. Sanghyuk was forcibly reminded of an over-stressed mother as Hakyeon flitted to and fro, flustered with the unfortunate and unenviable task of dealing with three incapacitated people under his care. Sanghyuk had reached out and offered his help, but Hakyeon brushed it aside, too much of a perfectionist and worrier to let Sanghyuk contribute anything meaningful. It was equal parts frustrating and touching to see that Hakyeon would care that much about these people who were, if he really stretched it, a step above strangers at most. 

So while Hakyeon did the best he could with his rather limited knowledge of magical remedies, Sanghyuk had spent most of the morning trying to get out of his way. In all honesty, he preferred to be out of range of Hakyeon’s shortened temper in his stressed out state than get something wrong in his misguided attempts to help. After he had collected a sufficient amount of both salt and fresh water for Hakyeon to work with, he left him alone. 

Hakyeon seemed to be more concerned about Wonsik and Hongbin, probably because none of them were sure exactly what spell Taekwoon had cast on them. And Jaehwan, it seemed, was out with no worse than a concussion, but Hakyeon had figured that the easiest solution to “mortal injuries” was to just throw some nectar and ambrosia at him and pray for the best. Still, Sanghyuk found an unexplainable part of himself wanting to drop by his room and visit him anyways. But then he reasoned that there would be no point to it. Jaehwan was unconscious and would therefore not even be appreciative of his company. He decided against it.

The sliding door of the Odyssey hummed a little mechanical whirl as it shut behind him. A slight breeze lifted his bangs playfully and brushed past his loose T-Shirt. It was odd how serene the beach looked today. The wooden boat that had carried them to hell and back lay half beached upon the tawny sand, the great cliffsides forming a cove that felt cozy, but not claustrophobic. How the light changed everything.

It was quiet out here.

The grass was cool and soft beneath his touch when he sat unceremoniously on the ground. Just down the way was the great live oak tree that he, Hakyeon, and Jaehwan had relaxed under just a day ago. The memory of Jaehwan’s closeness to him was a sweet one. He found it amusing how hard Jaehwan tried to make it seem like everything he did was completely natural. Sanghyuk liked to think that those bright sunny grins of Jaehwan’s were directed to him more than at the rest but no, that was wishful thinking.

His hand curled around the overgrown grass, ripping tufts out of the ground. Tch, Sanghyuk, listen to me, girls are always trouble, the phantom of a voice drifted on the wind, a faded memory that belonged to a time even before he had met Hakyeon. A voice that belonged to the woman who raised him, who pushed him past the death of his parents, who raised him with a harsh hand borne from love. She had always pushed and pushed and had been convinced that there was something greater in the world waiting for Sanghyuk. He had always thought she was a little crazy. But then again, Sanghyuk was traveling across the country with one of the greatest demigod legends of all time and the Doors of Death were open and inviting chaos into the world. Maybe she had been onto something after all. 

He closed his eyes. _You don’t need that kind of distraction in your life_ , she had chided. _Look here, look at me. Stand up straight. Think of how hard you had to work to hit all those targets from horseback. But you still never missed. You see? Focus, Sanghyuk. Focus. Never take your eye off your target. I promise you, you’ll never miss._

He was sure that she would skin him alive if she realized that all along, her stern advice didn’t stop Sanghyuk from chasing and wooing girls. He was even more certain that she would be even more displeased if she realized that down the line, Sanghyuk had turned around completely and realized that his interests were along the lines of his own gender. Oh well. She had always been quite the conservative anyways, so he figured that even if she had still been alive, he wouldn’t have been able to do much to change her mind about that. Sanghyuk inhaled in the floral scent that wafted in from the wind and breathed out a soft sigh, “If only you knew, Aera. If only you knew.” 

The sound of the Odyssey’s door opening shook him from his thoughts. He turned his head in half interest, expecting Hakyeon. Instead, it was Hongbin, seeming completely fine save for looking a bit more disgruntled than usual. Or maybe that was just his usual symptom of resting bitch face. He could never tell. 

“Back from the dead so soon?” quipped Sanghyuk. 

The belly of the sun hung low in the sky, filtering through the trees and dappling the ground. Hongbin indulged him with a smile at that. “Perks of having magical blood,” he said, leaning against the side of the van, “I think that was the most potent sleeping spell I’ve ever been put under but I’m alright now.” He grimaced, “For the most part.” 

Sanghyuk paused and gave him an almost patronizing look, “Shouldn't you be resting up still?

“Shouldn't your dad be the God of Healing?” Shot Hongbin right back at him. 

Sanghyuk shrugged good-naturedly, “Fair point.”

“But,” Hongbin sighed, “I suppose you might still be good enough for something.” He patted the Odyssey good naturedly as one might pat a horse on the flank. “I don't think that I can get this thing up and running again without Wonsik, but I'm not stupid enough to just leave us unprotected again.”

He raised an eyebrow, he had a feeling he knew where this was going, “I'm assuming you need the blood of a virgin or something for your protection spell?” 

Hongbin laughed shortly, “Warmer.”

“I should probably warn you in advance, then— I'm not a virgin.”

Hongbin laughed a little harder at that, shaking his head, “Close enough. You'll do for now.” From his jacket pocket, he pulled a slim stylus out. It was a silver writing apparatus that wouldn't look too out of place at the mall’s local Brookstone. What gave it away as a magical option was the air around it radiated with untapped energy. The white light seared into the mottled green and brown of the ground like a branding iron. Sanghyuk tried to follow the intricate patterns that Hongbin inscribed on the ground, but found that it was impossible. Where there was nothing a moment ago, there were runes and lines interlocking. It was a delicate dance between the physical and magical world that he was not privy to. 

Sanghyuk felt as if it would be irreverent to interrupt with small talk, so he watched in silence. Hongbin made a gesture, indicating that he should follow as the design went around the perimeter of the van, the tendrils of light snaking underneath the vehicle to meet their symmetrical counterparts on the other side. When all was said and done, an opaque dome encased their little camp. 

“Give me your arm,” said Hongbin suddenly. 

“What?”

“Your arm,” he repeated. 

Sanghyuk regarded him with a mixture of fear and suspicion. Which, he reasoned, was a reasonable reaction around sons and daughters of Hecate. For how seemingly tranquil Hongbin was, he could never quite shake off the fact that he had never seen Hongbin at his most powerful and he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to. Taekwoon had only been able to capture Hongbin in the first place because he had caught him unaware. He wasn’t even sure if it was possible to win in a fair fight against him. Eventually, though, Sanghyuk figured Hongbin wasn’t crazy and wasn’t going to use his blood for diabolical purposes. He up the sleeve of his long sleeved tee and bared his arm. 

Hongbin’s cold fingers on his skin were impersonal and efficient, his other hand holding his stylus. He grit his teeth and tried to brace for the pain. But it never really came. He felt a slight sting as the same white light that had burned through the ground cut through his arm, blood welling up from the injury. As soon as the first drop of his blood hit one of the runes inscribed on the floor, the dome around them sizzled almost menacingly. The dome solidified, then vanished before his eyes, the inscribed designs on the ground disappearing with it. 

“That’s— it, then?” he asked hesitatingly. 

“Not quite,” said Hongbin, pocketing his stylus once more, “That was simply a spell that makes us untraceable through either mundane means or magical means. A spell like this is temporary, but it should be sufficient enough warding to keep anyone or anything out. But I think that we could also do with something more permanent.” He glanced at the sky and the early evening sun. Yesterday, the darkness was dangerous, like a beast in the night poised to strike. But today, the land was peaceful, serene, even. It seemed almost impossible that anything besides the overwhelmingly mundane could trouble them today. But that could also be a side effect of the spell.

Perhaps Hongbin could sense what he was thinking because, “Don’t let the spell fool you,” he said, “Even if nothing happens tonight. I don’t want the Odyssey to be completely without protection for the rest of the trip.”

“It doesn’t already have any?” inquired Sanghyuk as he followed Hongbin away from the van. As soon as they passed the threshold of the spell, an unnatural cold went through his body, as if he had been suddenly dunked in freezing water. But it passed within half a moment.

Hongbin made a vague gesture, “There are some but they’re a bit— what’s the word? Primitive, I suppose. The spells I put onto the van make sure that no one blows the entire thing up because they were screwing around in the kitchen or they fucked with the stuff in the lab. It’s not really prepared for an attack of any kind. Not usually the kind of thing I was worried about when we just used the van to run errands and drive to the city.” They approached the edge of the forest, “Do you have your weapon on you?” 

The question must have shown on his face because Hongbin laughed freely at his expression, “Just a precaution,” he said, “If a were-racoon or something attacks us, I’m not exactly running at peak performance.” 

Sanghyuk scoffed, “When’s the last time you were attacked by a were-racoon?” He asked, turning toward the sun. He focused on the gentle rays peeking out from behind cotton spun clouds. It became easier, as he grew older, to actually summon anything with his powers almost instantaneously instead of taking upwards of five minutes as it did when he was thirteen or fourteen, his golden gleamed bow appeared in his hands several seconds later, a quiver of arrows slung over his shoulder. 

“Hey,” countered Hongbin, “They’re a lot more common than you might think.” The birds in the forest sang their evening song, tucking themselves safely into their nests. It was the vivacious call and response across branches, the lovely whistle of one bird matched a half step higher with the same tune. Sanghyuk found his guard lowering steadily as he watched with half interest as Hongbin double checked hastily scrawled notes in a weathered pocket journal. Occasionally they would stop as Hongbin bent down to carefully extract the roots of one plant or to reach up and pluck a feather off an unoccupied branch. But for the most part, they walked in quiet company as the sun set. After the chaos of yesterday, it was a welcomed mental break to be able to take a stroll with little need to be on guard. 

Unhelpfully, his mind decided that it wanted to wander. The events that had transpired in the cave felt almost like a fever dream. A flickering flame, two souls intertwined through fate and yet so clearly opposite of each other, the feeling of drowning, the shaky sigh of relief when they made it out, the softness of Jaehwan’s hair brushing against his cheek when he nodded off— Wait. One of those things was unlike the other. 

“Hey, could you hold this for me for a sec?” came Hongbin’s voice, filtering through his thoughts as he handed a tackily branded drawstring to him. He assumed that it must be enchanted, otherwise Hongbin wouldn’t have just been tossing a mixture of potion ingredients into it and hoping that they would be crushed on the way back. “Zoned out?” he asked. 

Sanghyuk forced himself to look casual as he accepted the bag. “Just tired, I guess.” 

Hongbin made a small noise of agreement, “And you and Hakyeon are the two of us that are in the best shape right now.” 

He almost wanted to correct him. He wasn’t sure if Hakyeon’s 3 AM to 6 AM vent session, which eventually cumulated in a very broken alarm clock and numerous moments of alarm because Sanghyuk didn’t really know how to handle a crying Hakyeon, counted him in as one of the people who made it out of that cave in one piece. “Do you think Jaehwan will be alright?” Sanghyuk asked. But then he suddenly realized that it was probably rude and insensitive to not ask after his and Wonsik’s health as well, “And— I mean, you and—” 

There was something beyond the amusement that shone in Hongbin’s eyes as he turned to face Sanghyuk. “It was just a sleeping spell. We’ll live,” he said, waving away Sanghyuk’s concern with a dismissive hand gesture, “Jaehwan, though,” Sanghyuk could feel his hesitation, “He’s lived through worse. I’ve patched him up through some pretty rough fights, but there are very few of them that I’ve ever thought he might not make it out of.” He frowned. “Though from what he’s told me about Taekwoon, I’m surprised you guys got out of there at all. Thank you, by the way. I don’t think I ever remembered to properly show my gratitude for getting us out of that cave.” 

“I mean, it’s what you would have done for us too,” Sanghyuk shrugged, the lighting falling lower in the sky and washing everything out in dusk. “I can’t imagine Jaehwan being beaten in a fight.” 

Hongbin scoffed, “I can’t either. He used to be much more argumentative, but I think he’s backed off quite a bit. I’m pretty sure the only true even match for him is Taekwoon. I know you think that sorcerers automatically have the advantage in every fight, but there is only so much we can do against another demigod on the level that those two are at.” 

“It was— I’ve never seen anything like that. The way that Jaehwan fights is just— it was almost like they could reach other’s minds,” Sanghyuk gushed, “I think that I sort of forgot that just because he never takes himself seriously doesn’t mean he’s not— incredibly skilled and dangerous, I guess is what I’m saying.”

Hongbin’s responding laughter was soft but in a way, it almost made him feel embarrassed. Like he was being laughed at but in the good-natured kind of way that one might laugh at their pet dog for getting stuck under the sofa. He slid Sanghyuk a sideways glance, “Nobody takes Jaehwan seriously. But don’t think I didn’t miss your little exchange over breakfast the other day.” 

Sanghyuk could feel heat rising in his cheeks and to the tip of his ears. He thought he was older and more mature than this, past the whole school boy crush phase. He was a man now and should be perfectly capable of eloquently expressing his attraction because he was not a middle schooler and if things didn’t work out, he could always put the whole thing behind him. But as it stood, he would not be surprised if he were quite visibly red. “That was just— I don’t even really know him, we’re friends, and of course I get worried about him and—” Sanghyuk stuttered, his rambling carrying Hongbin, obviously to new levels of amusement. 

“It’s funny,” Hongbin mused, “You both reacted the exact same way but you two really have nothing much in common at all.” 

“No, we don’t— wait, you’ve discussed this with him?” Sanghyuk asked, a vague hint of annoyance creeping into his voice. It didn’t sit exactly right in his stomach to know that he was being talked about behind his back, even if the subject was harmless. 

Hongbin, either purposefully or accidentally oblivious, completely brushed past the minor hardening in his tone. “In passing. He is attracted to you even if he doesn’t want to admit it,” he said, “But if you don’t want this to develop into something other than just being friends, you don’t have to. I think you’d be good for him, though.” 

“Good for him?” 

“Either as a friend or something more, I think that it’s been too long since he’s let someone into his life other than me or Wonsik.” 

He didn’t really get anything past a vague and noncommittal answer to that as they trekked back, and Sanghyuk threw all his weight into the conversation to move it to literally anything other than talking about Jaehwan. But the words still weighed on his mind by the time they walked past the spell’s threshold again, the night sky lightly dappled with stars behind them. The knowledge that Jaehwan found him attractive was a temptation in and of itself, and Sanghyuk wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to resist it. 

—

The light from the van spilled out into the soft night. The first thing Sanghyuk noticed was that there was one more person in the living room. Wonsik was finally awake and Hongbin bound across the expanse that separated them, enveloping Wonsik in a bone crushing hug, the kind that school children used to greet their friends after a long summer apart. It was simple and adoring, and they shared a kind of love between them that Sanghyuk longed to have. He tore his eyes away. 

Hakyeon gave him a weak smile, though he could tell from the way his usually lively eyes dulled that he was exhausted. Worry panged in his chest, his mouth set in a thin line. Despite his weariness, Hakyeon was at least genuinely glad that Wonsik and Hongbin were both none the worse for wear, and though they seemed too caught up in each other to properly thank Hakyeon, Sanghyuk nudged him gently towards their shared room. “You need to get some rest,” he chided, in one of the few instances where he was the one looking out for Hakyeon instead of the other way around.

“No,” said Hakyeon, stepping away from his touch and rubbing at his temples, “I still have to see to Jaehwan. He’s still not— he’s stable. He’s not in danger of dying any time soon but I don’t want to leave him unattended.” 

“That can wait,” countered Sanghyuk, pushing the door open with his foot and guiding Hakyeon insistently into their room, “Would it make you feel better if I stayed with him while you get some rest? Hey, I’ll even make dinner too.”

“That makes me feel even worse,” said Hakyeon flatly, “I don’t want your overcooked ramen.”

Sanghyuk rolled his eyes. “Look, you’re going to get at least four hours of sleep between now and dinner and if you try to go back to being a busybody, I swear I will get Hongbin to magically lock you in your room.” 

“I could always spend the next four hours doing other things. Being in my room doesn’t mean I necessarily have to sleep,” said Hakyeon, needling now, but the faint traces of a smile lingering on his face assured Sanghyuk that he was being annoying just to be annoying.

“Very funny. You’re too sad to jack off, remember,” said Sanghyuk, earning himself a dirty look from Hakyeon. “Get some sleep. I’ll make sure Jaehwan is still alive by the time you’re up. Probably.” 

Hakyeon muttered something that sounded vaguely mutinous under his breath, but he was already dozing off. Sanghyuk struggled to stifle a yawn before he closed the door behind him. How he stayed up until four AM nearly every day during his high school days playing video games, he didn’t know. True to his word, Sanghyuk did knock lightly on Jaehwan’s door, intending to spend the next couple hours at his bedside on his phone making sure he didn’t stop breathing. But to his surprise, a bemused voice answered softly, “Come in.” 

The white door swung open to reveal Jaehwan propped up on what looked like an excessive amount of pillows. The ambient yellow glow of the lamp on his bedside table illuminated two wooden bowls of water. Sanghyuk could only assume that Hakyeon was more creative with his powers than he gave him credit for. 

Jaehwan’s hair was messy and and his eyes were soft, lacking their usual intense focus. He realized, with a slight pang of guilt, that he’d probably been the reason Jaehwan woke up. “How are you feeling?” he asked softly, though it was not without awkwardness. 

“I’m alive,” Jaehwan said, his head ever so slightly tilted to one side, “And conscious. I just feel a bit— fuzzy? I don’t think that’s the word.” He closed his eyes briefly with a grimace, “I have quite the concussion apparently, but I’ll live. I’ve never known a Son of Poseidon with healing powers.” 

Sanghyuk came over to sit gingerly on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his added weight, “I don’t think Hakyeon’s ever done more than experiment with his powers, but I mean, I guess it helped?” 

“He did,” acknowledged Jaehwan, “The world’s worst headache has subsided to the world’s second worst headache.” 

Sanghyuk laughed at that, and the way Jaehwan’s face visibly brightened at his reaction did nothing for the quickening pace of his heart. “Sorry, I know that I should be able to do something, but I’d probably make it worse.”

“Make it worse?” 

Despite himself, he could feel his mouth twist into a vague frown, “Apollo is both the god of healing and the god of plague.” 

“Hey, look on the bright side. At least you’re good at killing things,” Jaehwan joked, “Maybe instead of healing, you can just kill things before they ever get the chance to hurt you.” 

“You know, I think you talk a little too much for someone with a concussion,” said Sanghyuk.

Jaehwan scoffed, his expression impish, “I find it very hard to shut up.” That was true, he reflected. It seemed that most conversations with Jaehwan turned into a back and forth with Jaehwan’s snarky wit designed to prod at another person until he got a reaction out of them. Kind of like a wasp that showed up to an outdoor feast with the sole purpose of annoying everyone. But instead of annoyance, Sanghyuk found, with growing horror, that he found it almost endearing.

“I’d probably like you a lot less as a person if you weren’t always jumping in and saving our lives,” said Sanghyuk, intending it in humor, but he saw something fundamental shift behind Jaehwan’s eyes that he couldn’t quite put words to.

“I think that I owe that one to you, actually,” countered Jaehwan. 

“I don’t think either Hakyeon or I would have been able to beat Taekwoon in a fight, fair or not,” shrugged Sanghyuk, “Although to be fair, I also, err, probably shouldn’t have provoked him.” 

Jaehwan snorted, “I can not figure out if you are incredibly brave or incredibly suicidal.”

“Both,” he said cheerfully. 

Unexpectedly, Jaehwan looked a little off-put by that. “You should be more careful,” he mumbled, his syllables jumbling into each other, “I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.” 

The quiet that stretched in between them felt painfully awkward on Sanghyuk’s side. Well, maybe not so much for Jaehwan whose eyelids began to droop. They were innocuous words, but the tenderness with which the words were said kindled a sort of misguided hope with him. He tried to shut that train of thought down, “You’d be upset if any of us were hurt,” he pointed out. 

Jaehwan’s brows furrowed, like he couldn’t understand why Sanghyuk was bringing that up.”Obviously,” he said, gesturing vaguely with his hand, “But I don’t know, you’re still special too and I like you so I don’t want to see anything happen to you,” he slurred his words together before making a small noise of frustration, “Oh, forget it. I just— I don’t know what I’m saying.”

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head, feeling his heart twinge in his chest, “You’re tired. I’m sorry, I was just supposed to come in here to make sure you were alright. I didn’t mean to wake you up or anything in the first place. I’ll just—” he stood up, meaning to go, “I can bring some food back later, if you want?” 

“No,” protested Jaehwan more adamantly than he expected as he reached out to grab the fabric of Sanghyuk’s shirt, pulling him back with enough force for him to almost fall back onto the bed. “Stay with me,” he said, “Just a little while longer.” 

Sanghyuk let out a short exhale of a breath he didn’t even realize he had been holding. His muscles went stiff and rigid compared to Jaehwan’s sleepy languidness. But he couldn’t find himself truly resisting. He felt almost trapped in the small room, caught in such close proximity to Jaehwan. He forced himself to remember to breathe. “Am I really that riveting?” he joked lightly, but his tone sounded flimsy even to his own ears.

“No,” Jaehwan muttered candidly, “But I like you more than I like Wonsik and Hongbin and Hakyeon.” 

Sanghyuk raised an eyebrow, “I don’t think I believe that.” 

Jaehwan laughed quietly. It felt too intimate, like pillow talk between lovers. “Hakyeon isn’t as funny, Wonsik is annoying, and Hongbin is mean.” 

“I think I’m mean, annoying, and too serious, though.”

Jaehwan hummed slightly in affirmation, his eyes closing, “That is true. But still, I think you’re alright.” 

Leave it to Jaehwan to make being called adequete feel like high praise. “Go to sleep,” he said. 

When there came no response, he leaned forward, ever so cautiously, to brush the stray hair out of Jaehwan’s face. But Jaehwan apparently fell asleep much quicker than he gave him credit for. That or he was good at faking it, but that seemed unlikely when his rhythmic breathing deepened, his expression slack. Sanghyuk let his eyes roam over Jaehwan’s sleeping form. 

He was growing fond of him. There. He would give himself that. Most of it, he figured, could be attributed to finding Jaehwan attractive, and the intrinsic flattery that came from knowing that to some extent, Jaehwan thought the same thing about him. That was, if Hongbin was to be believed. There was also the fact that Jaehwan was witty, quick with his mind, and just as quick to draw a laugh out of him. Put together, it was all endearing, certainly. But neither of them had time for this.

Sanghyuk stood up slowly, crossing the small expanse of the room. A different time, perhaps, he could have seen this growing into more than careful flirtation and stolen moments. But they had to focus on the very minor problem that was Taekwoon. And the dead coming back to life. And a deity older than the gods of Olympus themselves. Minor things. Still. He savored the moments in which he could imagine what could have been if things had been different.

He shut the door softly behind him, careful not to wake the sleeping occupant of the room behind him. He didn’t know what he expected to find when he exited the room. But he hadn’t expected to leave the downright tranquil room and walk right into an argument. 

“...We’re done here, Hakyeon. I’m not risking everybody’s lives again after what happened,” came Hongbin’s voice low, taut and coiled with the simple annoyance of his opponent not even attempting to adopt his viewpoint.

“So we’re just going to give up?” With every word, Hakyeon’s voice escalated in intensity. 

Wonsik looked between the two of them, uncertain of his place, but when he spoke, his voice was placating, “I don’t think it’s giving up. I just think Hongbin—” 

Hakyeon made a bitter noise. “You’re not siding with him because you actually think he’s right,” he snapped, shooting Wonsik down, “We don’t have the full story and you know it.” 

Hongbin closed his eyes briefly, visibly restraining his temper, “The Odyssey is fixed, we have nothing holding us back except for you. We could have easily died yesterday and I’m not going to risk our lives again for nothing.” 

“Fine,” Hakyeon snarled, “You’re free to stay holed up in here, safe and sound. You took long enough this morning with your bullshit spellwork to make sure of that. Whatever— whatever version of Taekwoon that was is not the Taekwoon I knew.” 

By now, Hongbin’s voice was practically condescending, his eyes like flint, “Yes, Hakyeon, next time I’ll simply leave this place unguarded again. And your idealized version of Taekwoon doesn’t exist anymore. If you want your Elysium coins back, be my guest but this isn’t up for debate.” 

“I wasn’t aware that you made all the decisions around here now,” said Hakyeon.

Before Hongbin could speak again, Wonsik interjected, “Hongbin, he’s right. No, listen to me,” he said, stepping in between the two of them, “We weren’t even conscious for most of it and we can’t make a decision without Jaehwan.”

“Jaehwan,” said Hongbin, making a clear effort to rein himself in, “I heard, tried to kill Taekwoon.” 

“And I think he might have succeeded,” interjected Sanghyuk. It was disconcerting having everyone’s attention snap to him at once. They hadn’t realized he had been there at all. 

Hakyeon stood, frozen in place, “You don’t know that.” 

He hesitated, realizing that maybe he shouldn’t have spoken.

He tore his gaze away. “Even— even if he survived, the cave collapsed. I think, whatever chance Taekwoon had of making it out are…” 

“Slim to none,” Hongbin finished the sentence for him.

Hakyeon’s unsteady breathing felt magnified in the space, and Sanghyuk realized how unfair it was to have all sided against him. Hongbin seemed to have realized this too, because his demeanor softened. Instead of his usual sharp edges, he sighed wearily. “Hakyeon,” he said, “Whatever you saw in the cave, whether or not it was actually Taekwoon, is gone. I think it’s in your best interest, too to let this go.” His gaze slid past Hakyeon and rested on Sanghyuk for a moment. “Drawing this out would be hard on Sanghyuk too, don’t forget that you were the reason he followed.” 

Sanghyuk’s eyes narrowed and he bristled at that. He had followed Hakyeon out of his own volition and because Hakyeon deserved his loyalty through and through. He didn’t appreciate being used as a cheap tactic in an argument. “No, that’s not fair,” he argued, “Don’t bring me into this like that. I may not think Hakyeon is completely in the right but I think he has a point.” Wonsik looked at him in surprise. “Are we just going to ignore the prophecy? If it’s truly about us then we’re missing a sixth person and this— this thing with Taekwoon doesn’t feel quite over yet.”

“Are you seriously implying that there is some way that Taekwoon could be the sixth person of the prophecy?” asked Hongbin incredulously. 

“No, but I don’t think that Taekwoon will stay dead for long.” 

“The Doors of Death are just a myth and we have no way of deciding whether or not Taekwoon was telling the truth,” dismissed Hongbin.

Hakyeon scowled again, “You weren’t even conscious for it, you can’t just keep making these assumptions. It seemed true enough for Jaehwan to believe him and frankly, I think it’s just fucking stupid to not trust the opinion of a son of Hades.”

“Then, what? If this is true then I’m assuming we’re just waiting around, holding bonfires and roasting marshmallows while we wait for Taekwoon’s reincarnated body to come back around and try to kill us again?” contested Hongbin. At this point, Sanghyuk was starting to wonder if both of them were arguing for argument’s sake, treating this verbal spar as something to be won instead of actually coming to a conclusion about what to do. 

“Or,” Wonsik said timidly, “We could, you know, wait for Jaehwan to make a decision—” He seemed to regret speaking when Hongbin turned on him too. The anger between both parties threatened to spill over and crescendo again into an argument that would have both of them talking circles around each other for the rest of the night. Before Sanghyuk could try to intervene as well, the loud thud of a body against metal shook them from their previous thoughts. 

They all turned to each other. No other noise came, but the warding around the Odyssey clanged in protest. It wasn’t a noise in the physical world, but even with Sanghyuk’s minimal instinct for magic, his intrinsic energy as a demigod felt the disruption. He didn’t want to imagine how loud it must be for Hongbin.

Hongbin swore quite colorfully under his breath, but somewhere in between his swearing, he managed to form the words to an incantation that quieted the noise. The uncertain silence left in its wake was worse.

Predictably, Hakyeon was never one that was quick to let go of his anger and he snapped at Hongbin in an accusatory tone, “All that effort and your warding doesn’t even work.” 

“That sounded too heavy to be an animal that slipped through,” worried Wonsik. 

“No,” agreed Sanghyuk, “That sounded like a human body.” 

He heard Hakyon’s sharp inhalation next to him as Wonsik moved cautiously to try and peer out of the windows. Even by the light of a bright moon, it was too dark to see very far beyond the immediate proximity of the van. 

“Hongbin,” Sanghyuk said, regulating his voice, “How could something have passed through the wards?”

Genuine worry clouded Hongbin’s face, and the thought of something or someone powerful enough to bypass his spellwork seemed to have left him with more fear than he would have liked to show. “They can’t,” he said, finally, “Unless they were told of our location or had something that could have lead them to us before the spells went up.” 

“You’re sure it was a person,” came Hakyeon’s tenor, clipped and worried. 

Hongbin nodded, his eyes trained on the door, “And they’re alive. Just not conscious.” The tension dissipated for a moment before they realized that just because whoever was outside of their door was unconscious didn’t mean that they didn’t still pose a threat. This could be a trap, designed to lure them outside of the relative safety of the Odyssey. Or it could be a warning. A hapless civilian body meant to scare them. 

Finally, Wonsik asked the obvious question, “What the hell are we supposed to do?”

The usual answer would be to send Jaehwan out and whatever the problem was, chances were that he would be able to either charm his way out of it or simply use his sword and hack and slash his way through it. But Jaehwan, unfortunately, was still out of commission.

That left Wonsik and Hongbin, not at their full power, and Hakyeon who for all his foolhardiness earlier, seemed reluctant to actually put himself in harm’s way. 

Sanghyuk sighed, “I’ll go.” 

This seemed to surprise Hongbin, for a reason that eluded him. Despite his brief onset of paranoia earlier, Sanghyuk reasoned that the chances of this turning into a low budget horror movie were relatively low. Probably. Hakyeon made an aborted movement like he was going to try and stop him, but Sanghyuk moved quickly and decisively, opening the door and leaping down into the night before anyone could stop him. 

The night was oddly dead. There was no wind, no soft sound of crickets, no rustling grass. It struck Sanghyuk as oddly odd until he forced himself to relax. It was probably the protective spells. 

He inhaled sharply and exhaled shakily as the fog rolled in silently. He fought the urge to laugh morbidly to himself. Low budget horror movie. The grass flattened where he tread, taking every step with exaggerated slowness, every muscle in his body poised for fight or flight. 

His phone’s flashlight cut a path through the darkness, scanning the environment until it hit the edges of a form. It was oddly anticlimactic. He felt as if he should have been prepared for a crime scene, not a perfectly normal pair of human sneakers. His flashlight crept to the side of the human form. Next to the body was a dagger, overly simplistic in design when compared to the more ornate weapons that belonged to Sanghyuk and Jaehwan. Even without the daylight, the weapon was unnaturally shiny, reflecting the van.

Sanghyuk moved his phone slowly and the flashlight illuminated the rest of the figure. Lean legs clad in jeans and a bloodstained winter coat. The light traveled upwards and Sanghyuk almost dropped his phone in shock, his facilities coming to a screeching halt. 

Jung Taekwoon lay unconscious against the side of their van, eerily pale face lolling to the side. If he didn’t know better, Sanghyuk would have thought he was dead. 

“Hongbin,” he said with a calm that betrayed his swiftly beating heart, “I think there’s something you have to see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Hyuken is my life  
> -You can follow me on [twitter](twitter.com/jaehwandred) and [tumblr](chanstraeus.tumblr.com)!  
> -Comments and kudos are super appreciated  
> -Sorry I'm really bad at replying to comments but I promise I get around to them eventually


	7. Chapter 7

Sanghyuk was privately beginning to think that everything would be easier if Taekwoon just stayed fucking dead when he died. After the initial shock of finding Taekwoon’s unconscious body against the side of their minivan, there came the logistical deliberations of what to do with him. They couldn’t very well leave him there because, well, frankly, it just felt morally wrong. But there was also the very large possibility that if he ever regained consciousness, he would try to kill them all. Again.

In lieu of Jaehwan’s unofficial decision making powers, Hongbin conjured up a set of binding ropes and calmly levitated his body through the open door of the van and disappeared inside. Sanghyuk thought it was a little creepy and more than a little morbid, but they reconvened in Hongbin’s usually off limits laboratory up the winding spiral stairs.

The walls were a luxurious shade of maroon, a color that felt somehow suited for the workings of magic and sorcery that occurred in the room. Unlike the harsh glow of the living areas of the Odyssey, the workroom possessed no artificial lights. Candles flickered in their tall votives and torchbugs fluttered in lanterns instead. A myriad of bottled potions stood scattered on the surface of the mahogany desk, winking lights catching on their silver tops. Leather bound tomes were stacked high beside his unblemished Macbook, its dimmed screen left cycling through today’s news.He supposed that the room would look a bit more welcoming and mystical during the day, but with the candles casting sharp shadows on the wall and Taekwoon’s unconscious and bound form in the room, everything left Sanghyuk feeling off kilter and on guard instead.

Hakyeon brought up the rear of their small escort into the room. With this many people, it felt a touch too claustrophobic and put Sanghyuk in closer range of Hakyeon’s anger than he would usually like to be in. He said nothing when Hongbin brought Taekwoon in but Sanghyuk could sense that the silence from Hakyeon wouldn’t last. They could only guess at Hongbin’s intentions when he stepped carefully around the chair, muttering incantations in an unknown language.

Hakyeon took a step forward, his fists clenched. Hongbin turned swiftly back to Taekwoon, the spell leaving his mouth as nothing more than a mere suggestion in the air. “Expergiscere,” he said. With a sweep of an invisible wind, the candles extinguished row by row. Except for one. The one that Hongbin wielded in his hand.

The entire room held its breath as the person in the center of it all began to wake.

Sanghyuk felt like he was watching everything in slow motion. Taekwoon’s eyes fluttered open as he looked around the room. The reality of the situation seemed to dawn on him, though, as his eyes focused and he realized the amount of danger he was in. He was, quite literally, deep in the heart of enemy territory. His movements, once disconnected and slow, quickened. His chest began to rise and fall with more swiftness as he carefully tested the strength of his bonds. His breathing stuttered to a screeching halt when he caught sight of—

“Hakyeon,” said Taekwoon, his voice pitched higher and sweeter than Sanghyuk always expected. Where his appearance was all sharpness and cold lines, the cadence of his voice felt like a melody, welling sweetly from a spring. It was almost a shock to hear him speak so normally, without any edge to his words.

Hakyeon flinched at his side, his expression full of yearning. Sanghyuk knew how badly Hakyeon wanted to fall right back in love with that face, his voice, with this Taekwoon who was so very human compared to whatever had confronted them the night before. But life never rearranged itself so perfectly to fit an ideal ending. That couldn’t be all there was to the story.

“Wait,” interjected Sanghyuk, a little sharper than he intended. Taekwoon’s expression changed on the turn of a dime, wiping the canvas of his face blank as he met Sanghyuk’s eyes. “Sorry for interrupting the reunion, no, really, I am. But this— not everything is adding up right now. I don’t know if you’re even the real Taekwoon or not but we were willing to risk our lives to find you only for you to turn around and try to kill us. Don’t you dare think that you can just— just come back with some sort of apology prepared and think it solves everything.”

From what little he knew of Taekwoon, he seemed to be the person who only expressed emotion through careful restraint. He inhaled sharply, displeasure settling into the crevices of his frown. It was the careful displeasure of someone who was unable to wholly react under the current circumstances stacked against him. “All I ask for,” he said levelly, “Is a chance to explain.”

“Well,” said Hongbin, “It’s a good thing we have all night for you to do just that.” The way he stalked around the room made even Sanghyuk wary. It was like watching a wolf circle its prey, all carefully controlled anger and intent. “Let’s start with how you got past our wards and found us in the first place.”

Taekwoon tracked Hongbin’s every moment, watching him with caution. He broke their connection briefly to send Hakyeon an almost apologetic look. “Your wards were not faulty,” he said with slow and measured words, “I should have died after my fight with Jaehwan but I was,” he paused, furrowing his brows, “I believe I was saved by Gaea. I did die, in a sense. I was still badly wounded when I escaped and I—” he hesitated, “I found a dagger. Hakyeon’s dagger. I knew it had to be for there is no other dagger like it.”

Wonsik regarded him with suspicion, “What do you mean?”

“It’s enchanted,” said Hakyeon, answering for Taekwoon, “Like a looking glass.”

Sanghyuk looked at Hakyeon sharply. When he had questioned Hakyeon about his missing dagger, he had told him that it was special to him because it had been a gift from his father. There was no unique enchantment mentioned.

“Yes,” Taekwoon blinked, “And now I am here.”

“Why in Zeus’ name would you willingly try to find us after what you’ve done?” asked Hongbin incredulously.

“Do you wish me to speak honestly?” asked Taekwoon. At first the sentence struck him as a little odd and then he realized. He realized that although their voices were vastly different, their speech patterns were hauntingly similar. It was easy to forget that Jaehwan’s thoughts had their roots in ancient times. His day to day speech flowed as easily as his own, but when flustered or distracted, he often accidentally reverted back to his more formal speech. With Jaehwan, the little quirk was endearing. With Taekwoon, it was just another forcible reminder that he didn’t belong.

“...Yes.” said Hongbin in a tone that clearly thought that should be obvious.

“I came to you for refuge,” said Taekwoon, and Sanghyuk fought to not let his surprise show. “Something out there turning demigods against each other and this is the first time I have been in control of my own senses for a very long time. Whatever— whatever I have done, I never intended to do.”

Sanghyuk crossed his arms across his chest, “Being possessed seems like a quick and easy excuse.”

“No,” argued Hakyeon immediately, “This is the Taekwoon I know. I don’t know what we found in the cave but we have to hear him out.” He spoke avoiding Taekwoon’s eyes, pleading to the council of Wonsik, Hongbin, and Sanghyuk.

The three of them looked at each other and Wonsik silently shrugged. That seemed to be about all the consensus that they would achieve without actual discussion. Sanghyuk turned his attention to Taekwoon, “Why did you leave in the first place? Hakyeon was distraught. He didn’t even know you were a demigod. He just thought that you had been just another mortal that disappeared with the rest of them.”

“I didn’t leave,” said Taekwoon as if that should have been obvious, “I did not even know that I was a demigod. My— memories and true form must have been suppressed. I was simply returning home from work when the ground split open. I have no recollection of what happened after but when I awoke, I had— only brief moments of lucidness when I would remember who I was and what I was doing. I was helpless to seek you out when my life only returned in bits and pieces. Truthfully, I— I barely remember what happened in that cave. All I remember was,” he glanced over at Hakyeon, the wheels in his mind turning. For all of the stories of Taekwoon’s prowess in battle, it felt like he had been holding back that night. Perhaps those little flashes of recognition that night had been the only thing grounding Taekwoon’s mind in reality. “I remember only that Jaehwan was forced to end my life.” He finished quietly.

“So why didn’t he?” interrogated Hongbin, “You aren’t even a Son of Hades. You should have died and stayed dead long ago.”

Taekwoon went silent, apparently having no answer to that.

A thought nagged at the edge of his subconscious. It was something that Taekwoon said but in the heat of the moment, it had been easy for his adrenaline charged mind to ignore Taekwoon’s ramblings in favor of deducing the best tactical advantage. Surely, it had to have been important but, what was it— “Hold on,” he said, the pieces snapping into place, “Taekwoon, I don’t know if you even remember this but you said something about the Doors of Death. Something— something about Gaea rising again. It seemed a bit crazy at the time but, maybe—?”

Wonsik frowned, “You didn’t mention this in the recap.”

“Because I didn’t think it was true. I think we all thought it was something along the lines of nonsensical rambling.,” said Hakyeon with a muted note of urgency, “But Taekwoon said something about Thanatos being captured.”

“And the Doors of Death would be open and the dead can return from the living and blah, blah, blah. You don’t remember saying any of this?” asked Sanghyuk in disbelief.

“No.”

“If, hypothetically, we are believing him,” said Hongbin, “It could be possible that Taekwoon was affected by an Eidolon.”

“An Eidolon?”

“Agents of Mother Earth. Wait, no, that’s not correct. Sorry, the Earth Mother,” Hongbin corrected himself, “If you bothered to ever read up on your mythology, you would know, Wonsik. They can easily take a person unaware and control their actions. The only way you would know that a person is under their influence is by their golden eyes.”

“Back in the cave, I thought it was just the firelight,” said Hakyeon quietly.

“Alright, I don’t know too much about the myths and know she’s some sort of powerful being but I mean, isn’t she still in slumber?” puzzled Sanghyuk, “What reason would she have to be doing all of this?”

“She is growing in power,” came Taekwoon’s soft voice, all of them focusing intently on his words, “The Gods of Olympus vanquished her children, the Titans and the Giants long ago. But perhaps when the world is too peaceful, the Gods grow complacent and that is why she is beginning to rise. I can only guess at her true intentions but there must be a reason I was used to weaken this group in particular.”

Taekwoon was the only person here that didn’t know about the prophecy. But there was still obviously the rather large possibility that one of the most primordial and ancient powers of the universe had discovered it somehow. Hongbin and Wonsik seemed very reluctant to hand over any more information so it was Hakyeon who said,

“ _Twin souls fated to return from ash to dust,_  
 _In turn time will take its toll, these valiant heroes must_  
 _Stand united together or the world will fall_  
 _To the immortal beckon of death’s call_.”

Even without any powers of an Oracle, the words felt far off and mystical, like they were not bound to this realm. The prophecy spent more time on the edges of Sanghyuk’s subconscious than at the forefront but hearing it spoken out loud again was a sharp reminder of the hefty weight of the words. Taekwoon’s eyes gleamed with interest, but without any malicious intent behind it. This was genuine curiosity spurned in those too keen eyes of his.

“This is probably our reason for being so high on the list of demigods that Gaea wants to kill,” surmised Hakyeon with a touch of irony.

“It isn’t too far out of the question,” Hongbin agreed, “I think it would be a logical conclusion to say that Gaea has been using Taekwoon as her eyes and ears.”

“It was not of my own will,” said Taekwoon quietly.

“Well, we’re still being hunted down by a great evil entity for a prophecy that we aren’t even sure we’re a part of,” said Hongbin with the depressingly carefree attitude of a senior in High School who just checked their second semester grades. He ran a hand through his hair, “This. This is fine.”

Sanghyuk regarded Taekwoon with heavy suspicion. Even if he wasn’t lying, he didn’t think he could ever really trust him. No matter what Hakyeon’s and Jaehwan’s feelings were, Taekwoon had still, at one point, been able to murder Jaehwan. He didn’t like him. “Are we just supposed to assume that you’re— safe, then? That Gaea can’t get at you anymore because that would be awfully inconvenient if you got possessed in the middle of the night and decided to kill us all.”

Hakyeon snapped, “You can’t blame him for doing things he had no control over.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to trust him,” rebutted Sanghyuk.

“Just because _you_ look for a reason to dislike everyone you meet doesn’t mean we have to  
condemn him for—”

“Hakyeon, stop,” said Hongbin calmly. Sanghyuk almost sighed aloud. Such an unbothered tone of voice would sound flippant to Hakyeon who, of course, would have his anger spurred even further.

“What?” he fumed.

“Look,” came the simple command.

Hakyeon’s eyes widened in horror as Taekwoon’s eyes filled with gold. Sanghyuk found himself taking an involuntary step back, his chest tightening. He knew logically that the Odyssey wasn’t impenetrable but it was still their safe house. It was where they spent long days on the road lounging on the couch or playing video games, not worrying about what evils lay just beyond its doors. Sanghyuk had never even entertained the possibility that it could be breached by something invisible bypassing their detection altogether.

Hongbin flung his arm out, preventing Hakyeon from passing him. The unnatural light began to fade from Taekwoon’s eyes, but their dark brown depths were still illuminated with a sickly yellow glow.

Taekwoon’s head swiveled as he got a good look at every person in the room, seemingly taking in all of the information that he could acquire. Hakyeon had been right. This wasn’t Taekwoon at all. This was monster in a human’s body. Slowly, Taekwoon sat up. Even bound in a chair, his posture looked somehow graceful and imperious. Or maybe that was just the inevitable cockiness of the Eidolon shining through.

“You are all so clever,” he said, mockery hanging from his words, “It only took you this long to start putting the pieces together. I meant to kill you all, actually, but that has proven harder than I expected.”

Hongbin scowled, “Unfortunate.”

“But,” said Taekwoon, interrupting Hongbin’s little victory, “Your prophecy, your visions. They’re meant for a group of six demigods. If I simply do not relinquish your sixth member, well, then, I think Fate will have a bit of a hard time conjuring up another group of demigods fast enough to stop the rise of Gaea.”

The Eidolon waited for the words to sink in. Hakyeon looked as if he hadn’t really comprehended what it was suggesting at first. Then comprehension slowly dawned on his visage. That would mean Taekwoon lost to time and stolen away by this supernatural being, never to resurface. That would mean Taekwoon trapped in his own body, helpless to his own predicament.

The resulting silence was terrible in its own right but what was worse was the way in which Hakyeon tried to hold himself together. His voice wavered, thick with a conundrum of both fear and conviction, “ _No_. You can’t possibly—”

“Your magic and your spells will have no effect on me,” said Taekwoon, “You may try if you wish but I’m not going anywhere.”

Hongbin stood motionless, the candlelight in his hand wavering. What Wonsik saw on his face could not have boded well because he said quietly, “Hongbin, there has to be a way.”

He had never seen Hongbin look so lost but Sanghyuk supposed there was always a first time for everything. Hongbin’s movements became rigid when he took a step back, his mind getting ahead of him. “I,” he opened his mouth, then closed it but he didn’t have to say it out loud for Sanghyuk to know what he was thinking. _I don’t know if I can_.

Something akin to guilt twisted his heart. Sanghyuk wanted to reach out and comfort Hakyeon but he wasn’t even sure if he could stomach that. Hongbin admitting defeat made Taekwoon feel like he slipped even further from their reach. If such a powerful sorcerer was rendered helpless, then there seemed to be nothing they could do.

Sanghyuk had never been able to commit fully to being a pessimist when the world was so intent on proving him wrong at every turn. When he set out side by side with Hakyeon to help him find his love, he had envisioned fairy tale endings and a sappy story. He never even considered the possibility that it would end in this small room with Hakyeon desperately holding onto the pieces of a broken heart.

Hakyeon closed his eyes, his breathing ragged. “I can’t,” he struggled, turning away, “I can’t breathe.”

He turned to Sanghyuk and he fought not to let his own heart break at the sheer numbness in Hakyeon’s eyes. Wordlessly, he embraced his friend without hesitation. Hakyeon clutched at the fabric of Sanghyuk’s shirt, his weight unsteady against him. Taekwoon’s smile turned sadistic at the sight, the coldness of it sending a rush of anger coursing through his bloodstream.

Wonsik murmured something to Hongbin who nodded, his mouth set in a grim line. The Eidolon ceased to speak but a semblance of movement seeped back into the room when Hongbin turned to the leather books piled on the desk, his broad shoulders hunched slightly over as he loomed over his tomes, cracking the pages as he flipped them open.

He felt oddly touched by all of it. But no, of course they wouldn’t simply give up. Hongbin was the most talented sorcerer of their age and Hongbin never seemed like the type to ever let a puzzle go unsolved. Sanghyuk inhaled deeply through his nose, unconsciously pulling Hakyeon closer to him. He would return to help in whatever way he could later but for now, Hakyeon needed to be away from it all.

Sanghyuk gently pulled away, placing his hands on Hakyeon’s shoulder and trying for an encouraging smile. It must have looked like more of a grimace because Hakyeon gave a weak smile in return. “We’ll sort this out, I promise,” he said ardently, “Come on, let’s— I don’t know, go for a walk or something. Clear your head.”

They never quite got around to that because the door swung open and Sanghyuk nearly jumped out of his skin. Jaehwan strode in, perhaps summoned there by the commotion that he had missed. He held his head high and, of course, he even took time to change into dark slacks and a button up for maximum dramatic effect when he strode into the room to assess the situation. Because of course. Jaehwan was surreal.

His arrival interrupted the fragile quiet that had settled in the room. But it also seemed to have awoken the Eidolon again, golden eyes glowing in the sudden influx of light. In Taekwoon’s distorted voice, he said with a curl of amusement, “Jaehwan. What an honor.”

Hakyeon turned swiftly on his heel at the sound of Taekwoon’s voice again.

Perhaps Jaehwan had overheard some of their conversation as he ascended the stairs, or he deduced all he needed from Taekwoon’s eyes and the cadence of his voice because he said, “So, I suppose in retrospect I should feel a bit bad about trying to kill you. An agent of Gaea, you said?”

Hakyeon watched with a mix of hope as well as the well founded suspicion that Jaehwan was simply going to make everything worse. Sanghyuk thought that was fair.

“Her most powerful,” said Taekwoon with an upward tilt of his head.

“Really?” he asked calmly, circling the chair, “Because last I checked, Eidolons don’t even belong to the realm of the earth.”

“We are not bound by your petty human definitions and limitations.”

Jaehwan paused, raising an eyebrow, “Eidolons are nothing more than glorified phantoms, a spirit-image. I think that I have more power over this situation than you would like to admit.”

“You would not truly risk it,” sneered Taekwoon but somewhere in there was a flicker of doubt. “Watch yourself, Son of Hades. You do not know the true extent of your power.”

“No,” said Jaehwan with infuriating arrogance, “I think I do.”

“You would risk killing the host body to banish me?” snarled the Eidolon.

“Jaehwan, no, you can’t just take that kind of uncalculated risk,” Hakyeon growled, reaching out and grabbing Jaehwan’s arm not unkindly, “There has to be another way.”

He shook him off and backed away, expression taut with annoyance, “Unless you can come up with any other solution soon, this Eidolon will drain Taekwoon away until he regresses into a shell of himself once more with no recollection and no will to pull himself together again. This time, there is no reason for it to even keep Taekwoon alive so forgive me for doing my best to save someone we should have let die.”

They stared at each other, both intractable forces for their own different reasons. Jaehwan, with the indomitable conviction of being in the right. Hakyeon, for, well, understandably not really wanting Taekwoon dead. Finally, Hakyeon tore his gaze away, bitterness in his eyes, “ _Don’t_. Fuck this up.”

Jaehwan didn’t deign him with a response. Taekwoon began to struggle in his restraints. Not with a dramatic outburst, but with slow and methodical testing of the strength of the rope which grew in more effort as Jaehwan drew closer. “Banish me if you will,” grit out the Eidolon, determination in Taekwoon’s warped voice, “But you will not stop the Earth Mother’s rise. Gaea will grow in power despite your stupid prophecy—”

“I appreciate the attempt at a villain monologue but I still have a terrible headache and I am not really in the mood,” said Jaehwan. The single flame in the room wavered.

Sanghyuk watched in rapt fascination as Jaehwan began to speak words in a language unknown and foreign to him. He wove them together, harsh syllables and rounded vowels until they formed a tapestry, encasing the walls. It felt as if all the power and energy in the room was pulled toward the center, toward Jaehwan, whose words became a repeated chant. His eyes were intent upon Taekwoon who fought to tore his gaze away but found that he could not. A silent wind sliced through the air and the last candle went out. The room was plunged in darkness.

His eyes fought the darkness as they tried to adjust. Taekwoon was slumped over in the chair again, unconscious. Or dead.

But by the way Jaehwan was still hovering over him with no outward sign of panic, Sanghyuk would just have to assume the former.

Jaehwan’s strange spell seemed to have done nothing.

Until a ghostly glow surrounded Taekwoon. It was an outline, a rough sketch of the human it drew from and it certainly shouldn’t have been substantial enough to stand on its own. But Jaehwan drew it slowly from the real Taekwoon’s body, stepping back as he wrenched the Eidolon from its host. It was unnerving to watch — like a soul being ripped from its body. Jaehwan murmured something and the connection severed. The Eidolon stood alone in front of Taekwoon and for a moment, they simply looked each other. Human and ghost.

The Eidolon took advantage of the moment of quiet. In the blink of an eye, it shifted until it was an ethereal form of Jaehwan himself.

“Are you going to try and possess me too?” asked Jaehwan with calm confidence, “We both know that won’t work.”

“I’ve possessed the minds of tavern wenches with more depth than yours,” the creature bit out in a disembodied voice, bitter at being forced to ultimately bend to Jaehwan’s will.

Jaehwan frowned at that, “I take offense to that.” His head cocked slightly to the side, “You want your freedom? Fine. I will grant it on one condition. Well, I suppose you don’t have a choice either way.”

The Eidolon remained quiet, though its form grew brighter but in this case, it felt quietly menacing as it gathered power to itself.

“I’ll set you free so long as you swear not to possess any of the members of this party,” he paused, but with obvious reluctance added, “including Taekwoon.”

“And if I refuse?” it challenged.

Jaehwan shrugged, “Then I’ll just banish you to the realms of the Underworld where even Gaea has no true power.”

It said nothing. Sanghyuk had a half a mind that it would simply refuse but it simply grit out something in a language that he didn’t know. At the very least, it sounded more familiar than the one that Hongbin had used earlier. Greek?

Whatever it was, Jaehwan replied in the same. They seemed to have reached some kind of strange, unspoken agreement.

It said something else in a snide tone to which Jaehwan replied with an equally snide tone. Then, it vanished with an anti-climatic whisper of wind. The candlelight came back tentatively, like it was afraid to be snuffed out again. Hongbin flicked his fingers and magic flew from his fingertips to the rest of the candles and lanterns around the perimeter of the room until the atmosphere didn’t seem quite as foreboding.

Wonsik was the first to reach out in a cautious voice, “So— is it really—?”

“Gone?” asked Jaehwan, rubbing at his eyes, “For the most part. It can’t come anywhere near us but I’m sure it will have fun possessing an unsuspecting human somewhere. I doubt it wants to return back to its mistress empty handed.”

“Hold on,” said Sanghyuk, taking a step toward Jaehwan, “You can’t just— just let an Eidolon go like that.”

Jaehwan raised an eyebrow, “I just did,” he said with a slight tilt of his head, “Hold on, I’m sorry I don’t really see the problem here when I just got rid of the thing possessing Taekwoon and then made sure it wouldn’t possess anyone else. If you had a better idea, I’d have loved your input earlier.”

Sanghyuk set his jaw stubbornly, he didn’t think that Jaehwan realized just how _infuriating_ his tone of voice could be, “So it’s alright for this to happen to someone else? Even if they’re not a demigod?”

“It’s not a perfect world,” his tone was brittle.

“Are you not going to do something about it?”

“Like I said, I’m open to suggestions.”

Sanghyuk exhaled forcefully, prepared to thoroughly chew him out, when Hakyeon interrupted in a scolding tone that didn’t do any favors for his annoyance, “Can you two stop arguing?”

“It’s not arguing when I said I was open to hearing his opinions — I think that’s more than enough to turn it into a civil discussion,” protested Jaehwan. Sanghyuk had brief visions of strangling him.

Sanghyuk scowled, “That’s not—”

“No, seriously, shut up,” hissed Hongbin and he might have been ignored were it not for the stirrings of the person in the center of the room that had caused them so much trouble over the past few weeks.

Taekwoon groaned, lifting his head with painstaking slowness and a grimace on his face and said the only thing that could be expected of him in such an unfortunate series of events, “Gods, I hate my life.”

“Don’t we all,” he heard Jaehwan mutter under his breath.

“Taekwoon,” came a quiet voice, and Hakyeon fell to one knee beside his chair, peering up with wary eyes, “I—” His words were choked off with a heavy heart.

Hongbin’s face was expressionless as he snapped his fingers and the bindings fell away from Taekwoon, leaving him freed at last.

Neither of them seemed to know where to begin with each other, searching and yearning, unlearning not to hope. “I’m sorry,” said Taekwoon finally, “For making you worry, and for hurting you, and for ever leaving you alone— ”

Hakyeon cut his sentence short and drew Taekwoon up into a crushing hug, burying his nose into Taekwoon’s hair, his shoulders trembling, “ _Don’t_ ,” he whispered fiercely, “Don’t apologize for something you didn’t do. You’re safe here, now, and that’s all that matters.”

Taekwoon froze up completely in his arms. It made Sanghyuk smile a little when that just made Hakyeon hang onto him just that much tighter. Taekwoon let a little bit more go piece by piece until he closed his eyes and breathed out a long sigh into the fabric of Hakyeon’s sweater and wrapped his arms around his waist. “I missed you too,” he said every word haltingly. And that was apparently the last thing needed to send Hakyeon over the edge with tears running down his face.

Sanghyuk took that as his cue to leave.

It felt too intimate a scene for Sanghyuk to linger any longer so he muttered a vague excuse about leaving his phone in the kitchen and hurried down the stairs as inconspicuously as possible. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it bed head messy. Hakyeon had been one of his best friends for longer than he could remember but oddly, he had never been too privy to his relationship with Taekwoon. Hakyeon had always been more than willing to laugh about his past flings and snicker over texts from any and all of his exes, but Taekwoon had stuck around far longer than any of them. He knew, in a sense, that Taekwoon had always been different but he had never grasped just how much he meant to him.

Sanghyuk heard footsteps following close behind him and turned abruptly to see Jaehwan there with the oddest expression on his face. Immediately he recalled their previous exchange of words that hadn’t had the momentum to build into an argument but it had been rather close to one. “Are you alright? You seem, I don’t know, kinda annoyed.”

“Hm?” Jaehwan raised an eyebrow, his face settling back into his normal self, “What? Why would you think that?”

Sanghyuk shrugged, “Your face.”

That made Jaehwan snort, “I’m sorry that my face bothers you so much. I wouldn’t be annoyed with you personally. I can just be a bit,” he paused, “combative. Sometimes.”

“Noted,” said Sanghyuk drily, slipping his hands into his pockets and shuffling his weight awkwardly, “So, err—” His mind drew a blank. Then he proceeded to mentally cursed himself out for losing his train of thought so easily around Jaehwan. It seemed to happen more than he cared to keep track off.

Jaehwan ignored it coolly, “I was just,” he looked away towards the door, “Was going outside. If you want to join me?”

—

The night was growing weary as clouds full of rain tumbled in. The condensation on top of the van sunk uncomfortably through the fabric of his pants and he made a point to complain loudly about it to which Jaehwan laughed, a sound that lifted his heart.

“So, I’m guessing this is where you always disappear to?” asked Sanghyuk, settling in beside him.

“It used to be just my secret but,” Jaehwan glanced at him with a little smile, “But guess it’s ours now.”

Sanghyuk blinked rapidly then cleared his throat, turning away, “Yeah, I— suppose so?” He recovered quickly scowling at Jaehwan, “Why do you always have to make things awkward?”

He snickered, “It’s not my fault you’re so easily flustered— ow!” His frown was comically exaggerated when Sanghyuk punched him in the stomach in retaliation, “I did not come out here to be— to be bullied by you.”

“Better to be out be bullied by me out here than be in a room with the cheesiest K-Drama reunion I’ve ever seen,” Sanghyuk reminded him.

He could, at least, see the humor in that and laughed gently, “You aren’t wrong.”

“I thought you would be more upset,” confessed Sanghyuk.

“About what?”

He got a disbelieving look in return, “You’re upset about Taekwoon. I don’t need to know you very well at all to see that. You wear your heart on your sleeve.”

Jaehwan’s first instinct was to shrink away from the questioning. He barely knew Sanghyuk and he would rarely even share anything with Hongbin. But Sanghyuk wasn’t being nosy because he thought that he could help in any particular way. He just wanted to listen. A weary sigh traveled through his body as he closed his eyes for a moment. “I just never thought I would ever see him again. To have him here is— how do I explain this? Just being near him makes me feel like there will always be a part of me that belongs to the past. It’s very,” he bit his lower lip, searching for words as Sanghyuk patiently waited, “I guess it’s just odd to not be the center of each other’s lives anymore. It’s like we’re strangers again.”

“Are you— actually _jealous_? Of Hakyeon?”

“What?” Jaehwan bristled at the question, “Gods, no, I’m not a teenage girl, Sanghyuk. I just don’t know how either of us are going to just going to pretend that the other doesn’t exist. It’s— not easy to look at him and think about all the times when everything just felt so right. But,” he scoffed, “I mean, obviously we didn’t work as well as I thought we did. I thought I had forgiven him for everything but…”

“Jaehwan, he tried to kill you. Most people find that hard to forgive.”

“But I’ve had so much time to do so,” he made a noise of frustration, “I don’t know. I don’t know how I can feel so much anger and sadness when I see him but he seems to feel nothing at all.”

They were both quiet for awhile and Jaehwan was beginning to think that maybe he had perhaps overshared. “I think,” Sanghyuk said finally, staring at his shoes which dangled over the side of the car, “That you care too much. Maybe you should protect your heart, instead. I don’t know what Hakyeon sees in him. He just seems like too much trouble to me.”

“Maybe,” he said simply, “And Taekwoon can be charming. If you’re into tall, dark, and broody.”

“Were you?”

“With my personality? Frankly, my type is anyone who shows interest in me.”

Sanghyuk snorted in disbelief, “Somehow, I have a hard time believing that.”

“What? That I have a grating personality or that I don’t have a type?”

“Both,” said Sanghyuk bluntly. His heart missed a beat, a hopeful skip of wondering exactly what Sanghyuk meant behind his words. They looked at each other, eyes caught in the others’ glance for a moment and Jaehwan’s heart thudded an unsteady rhythm.

He forced himself to tear his gaze away and cleared his throat, “Right,” his voice was unnaturally business like even to his own ears, “Well, anyways I will simply have to get over whatever personal feelings I have about Taekwoon because I don’t think our journey’s come to an end just yet.”

Sanghyuk seemed oddly disappointed in his change in demeanor but answered in kind, “I didn’t expect to be dragged along for such a ride.”

A wry smile curled at the corner of his lips, “Nor I. I hadn’t even considered the possibility of Taekwoon being the sixth of the prophecy but everything leading up to this seems less of a coincidence and more like fate.”

“And you wouldn’t tempt fate?”

“No,” said Jaehwan decisively, “I’ve lived long enough to learn to not ignore these signs. The rising of a being older than Olympus itself? That is— troubling to say the least. I know I apparently care too much but I’m not the type to sit idle when I can do something about it.”

“You know, technically you guys have done your job. Whatever Hakyeon paid you with, at the beginning, it’s yours.”

Jaehwan pulled the Elysium Coin from his pocket and it gleamed an unnatural silver in the darkness of night, “You mean this?”

“You can’t just—!”

“What?”

“Do you just carry an Elysium coin around with you in your pocket? That thing is worth more than I could ever make in three lifetimes.”

Jaehwan let it lay flat on his palm, “I won’t lose it. Probably.” It felt much different on his bare skin than separated from him by a layer of fabric, but not in an unpleasant way. It was just odd to be aware of its potency when he had begun to simply regard it as just another one of his possessions. “What you said is true, though,” he acknowledged, “You and Hakyeon have no reason to stay any longer.” He regarded Sanghyuk with a suddenly keener eye, “Are you saying this because you’re planning to leave?”

“No,” Sanghyuk said firmly, “I’m staying.”

“Even when you’ve seen how dangerous this could get?”

“Jaehwan, I have the option of either staying with you guys and being part of a prophecy that could potentially change the world or I could go back to my fall semester classes and fail biochemistry. Which one did you really think I would choose?”

Jaehwan held his hands up defensively, “Hey, at least you would be failing biochemistry without any chance of that class killing you.”

Sanghyuk mulled that over, “No, I genuinely think that class would have killed me first,” he said, “And rest assured, Hakyeon wouldn’t leave without me.”

Jaehwan made a noise of amusement at that. Of course Hakyeon wouldn’t leave his ward behind. He had, somewhere along the way, forgotten just how young Sanghyuk was to still be worrying about school. It was odd to think that had he not gotten entangled in all of this, he would probably be in his dorm room hard at work, or most likely playing video games with his friends. Or at a party or at least getting a good night’s sleep. But he was here, now, young enough to still be enthralled by ideas of glory and heroism. He wouldn’t ruin his idealism, but he didn’t think that he could bear to see someone like Sanghyuk fall into ruin.

“So,” said Sanghyuk, “What’s next?” And Jaehwan knew that he wasn’t talking just about the immediate future. The Taekwoon situation had been a bigger complication than he had anticipated but now, well, now they were all a part of something much bigger. A prophecy, an adventure, a quest.

His eye met the horizon line as the dark clouds overhead thickened. The shadows of the surrounding trees grew longer and the distant waves cracked sharply against the rocks. The east wind whistled and the leaves trembled in their places and yet through the heavy sky, a glimpse of a full moon peeked out, luminescent and beautiful.

“I think,” Jaehwan said, “That everything has just begun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Hello! Sorry for not updating in so long but I've had a crazy busy end of the year and was left with little to no time for writing. On the bright side, updates should be pretty much back on track after New Years so thank you for all of those who have stayed and read my silly fics. All of your comments and kudos mean the world to me!  
> -Remember that little Hyuken scene all the way back in Chapter 3 where they sat on the top of the Odyssey and Sanghyuk realized that he didn't quite dislike Jaehwan at all? There's [fanart](https://twitter.com/jaehwandred/status/810994946022879233) for it now!  
> -As always, kudos and comments are super duper appreciated!  
> -You can follow me on [twitter](twitter.com/jaehwandred) and [tumblr](chanstraeus.tumblr.com)


	8. Chapter 8

“More civilians reported missing from both major cities and—” the TV skipped to another channel. “Strange storm clouds reported gathering in the Northwest, a potential weather system unlike anything that has been seen in the region—” Wonsik flipped to the next station. “Mutilated bodies found on the side of the road reportedly identified as missing Idaho family of four—” The sound byte cut off. “...Large unexplained rifts appearing along the San Andreas fault line…” “Local government officials would like to re-emphasize the dangers along the Angeles National Forest—” The channel flickered. “Black Star Canyon murders being reinvestigated—” 

Jaehwan sat at the head of the kitchen table, doing his best to drown out the noise of the television in the background as well as strategically position himself as far away from Taekwoon as he could while maintaining a seat where he wouldn’t have to make too much eye contact with him. Hongbin must have seen right through his fussiness with the chairs because he sighed in a very put-out manner. Jaehwan glared. Hongbin raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. 

Wonsik was about to change the channel yet again when Sanghyuk finally reached over, snatched the remote away from him, and turned it off. Sanghyuk snickered at the expression on Wonsik’s face, but refused to relinquish control of the remote again. Jaehwan cleared his throat.

“Alright, as you know, I’m here to talk about—” 

“The Avengers Initiative?,” Hongbin cut in.

Jaehwan glared at him, “Very funny.” He could distinctly hear Hakyeon choke off the beginnings of laughter with a subtle and well timed coughing fit. “But no, our favorite demigod legend, Jung Taekwoon, has decided that being dead didn’t suit him very much and so now we have a prophecy to fulfill and a world to save.”

Wonsik didn’t look as bothered as he should have, “Oh, how bad could it be?”

Jaehwan had a sarcastic comment primed and ready when Taekwoon surprised them all by responding instead, “Bad,” he said simply but continued to elaborate, “Perhaps it is not as noticeable to the mortals but just know as Gaea grows in power, things will only get worse.”

He capitalized on his somber tone and pressed the point, “The Doors of Death are the only thing that keeps the monsters of Tartarus from so easily entering our world. If they remain open, any monsters we kill will simply return for a second round and that’s— not good, to say the least.”

“If Gaea is able to amass an army of monsters before we’re able to close the Doors then we’re done for,” said Hongbin in a slightly flatter tone than usual. 

“Precisely,” said Jaehwan, pleased that despite the slightly unfocused start to their unofficial team meeting, they were all quickly catching on to the fact that if they did not act with haste, things would start looking very bad very quickly. 

Wonsik let out a low whistle, leaning back in his wooden chair, hands behind his head. “I thought that we would be done and over with this whole thing as soon as we found Taekwoon.”

“Plans change,” said Hongbin simply and with one hand, he brought all four feet of Wonsik’s chair firmly back to the ground again.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Hakyeon,” Sanghyuk remarked, turning to him. 

“Hm?” said Hakyeon, “What did you want me to say?”

Sanghyuk shrugged, “Dunno. You usually have an opinion on everything though.”

“It’s not really an opinion but...I was just thinking. A week or two ago, at the diner where we were attacked by the Minotaur. Didn’t it come to us purely because that many demigods in one place attracts too much trouble?”

Taekwoon’s eyes widened slightly, “You were attacked by a Minotaur?”

“We killed it,” said Sanghyuk, sweeping the story neatly under the rug. 

“Er,” Jaehwan ran a hand through his hair. “I had actually sort of forgotten about the fact that we might attract even more attention,” he admitted.

“That means that we will simply have to find a way to close the Doors of Death that much sooner,” Taekwoon said matter-of-factly. 

“Alright, no offense but the majority of us here are just normal demigods. How exactly are we going to accomplish this?” asked Sanghyuk. 

Jaehwan glanced over at Hongbin, and he was rather glad that over the years of forcing his friendship upon him, they had developed a pretty reliable system of nonverbal communication. Hongbin drew out his stylus, tracing a symbol in the air. The space wavered for a moment, filled with magic. Then, he caught the resulting notebook from the air and slid it over to Jaehwan along with his stylus. “Here, it’s like this,” he said flipping open the notebook to the first blank page and drawing a messy diagram, “The Underworld can be accessed nearly anywhere you are in the world but the Doors of Death are unique because they’re...how should I say this? They’re pretty much Thanatos’ personal portals into hell. Traditionally, Thanatos always keeps the locations of these doors a secret but if Gaea is using them to usher monsters into the real world, then one of the entrances has to be in Tartarus.” He marked an ‘X’ on one side of the page, mouth twisting into a slight frown, “We’ll have to somehow find the other entrance in the physical world but since Thanatos is the only one that can set the location of the Doors, we’ll have to ask him ourselves.”

“You realize that this diagram that you’ve been scribbling makes no sense to anyone else but yourself, right?” said Wonsik.

He scowled, “I’m a visual thinker! You don’t ever see me criticizing your face when you’re lost in thought.” 

Hongbin hit Jaehwan lightly on the head for his snark, presumably, but he could still see the faint amusement in his eyes. “Alright, we’re following,” his deep voice straightening out to be pragmatic, “Can you contact Thanatos, then?”

“Well,” he said almost apologetically, “I tried, yesterday. Sort of. But it seems that he’s just...gone. He doesn’t have to be near the Doors to tend to them but the only reason they would be forced open is if he was captured in the first place. Do you recall the tale of Sisyphus?” 

“I know this one,” interjected Wonsik, “The guy with the boulder that he has to keep pushing up the hill for eternity right?”

“...Close enough,” said Jaehwan before continuing, “Anyways, Sisyphus was, uh, he was kind of a dick if I’m being honest. He was crafty, probably overly so and he tricked death by capturing Thanatos and chaining him up, thus creating the same problems that we’re facing today. Nobody could really die but I’m assuming the other entrance to the Doors wasn’t in Tartarus at the time because I don’t ever recall them having a monster problem. Regardless, once Thanatos was freed by the god Ares, life returned to normal and Sisyphus was bound to an eternity of endless frustration.” 

“So Gaea has Thanatos captured somewhere,” said Hakyeon.

“Correct.”

“And we have no idea where he is?” 

“Er,” said Jaehwan, feeling rather foolish, “Sort of correct?” 

“That is not entirely true,” Taekwoon said, voice jarringly quiet compared to his own naturally loud tone, “Like I said, I only remember bits and pieces of my time captive underground but I remember that it was very cold. And the winds— I can not be certain but I believe they were from the North.” He seemed to realize that he sounded a little foolish because he ducked his head, “I’m sorry, I know that is not very specific but—” 

“No, no, that’s actually really helpful,” Hongbin said, his words quickening in excitement as he presumably realized something that they had previously missed, “I just thought my new runes had fucked up the scrying bowl because it was very insistent on showing me visions of Alaska. I couldn’t figure out why but now with Taekwoon’s little piece of information, those visions are starting to make a lot more sense.” 

Jaehwan’s fingers came to rest on his temples, “So Gaea has presumably imprisoned the God of Death in a land of snow and ice. That figures. Thanatos always hated the snow.” 

Taekwoon looked up in curiosity, “You knew him personally?”

Jaehwan squinted back at him, “I’m a Son of Hades and simply refuse to die so I mean, yeah, I guess you could say that I was at least acquainted with the God of Death.” 

Taekwoon looked like he had something else to say but wisely held his tongue. His feelings toward him had not changed to being very favorable. He was sure that his own short temper had something to do with it but it seemed to be that nearly everything Taekwoon did infuriated him.

Hakyeon looked between the two of them like a mother at her two quarreling children. Jaehwan ignored both of them and smoothly continued on, “Back to the topic at hand, freeing Thanatos is our first priority. After that, we will have to somehow split up. The Doors of Death are controlled from both sides so we will need to sever the chains binding them to Tartarus from both inside Tartarus as well as the mortal location.”

Sanghyuk made a strangled noise, “You’re not actually saying that we have to travel through Tartarus, are you? That’s— literally impossible.”

“Well,” Jaehwan’s smile was brittle, “There’s a first time for everything.” 

No mortal had ever traveled through Tartarus for good reason. It was a pit of monsters engineered to drive any being insane. If the monsters didn’t kill you first, your own thoughts would turn you against yourself. Even the gods feared such a hopeless place. Still, he supposed the Fates knew what they were doing. Or, at least, he hoped they did. Prophecies didn’t often set heroes up to simply fail. 

“I’m sure your father is happy with all this meddling you’re doing,” said Hongbin.

Jaehwan made a dismissive noise, “Frankly, I believe he is too proud to even admit that he’s losing control of the Underworld. If we succeed, he won’t be happy if word spreads that a bunch of demigods had to fix everything for him. Don’t think we’ll get much help from him. At this point, I’m lucky if he doesn’t smite me.” 

“Father still doesn’t like you very much after all this time?” asked Taekwoon, not in a snide manner but the wording of his question still rubbed him the wrong way.

“No,” he said simply, “Your Father still going to ignore any and all of your achievements this time around? Just like the good old days?”

“Okay,” said Hakyeon a little loudly, “I think that we have everything more or less sorted out, right guys?” He said, letting his very fake pleasant smile linger a little longer on Taekwoon and Jaehwan. “Good, because that’s what I thought. We set course to Alaska, we free the God of Death and in the meantime, let’s not waste our energy on things such as childish barbs across the dinner table.”

“I take offense to that,” said Jaehwan.

“You take offense to everything,” shot Sanghyuk.

Jaehwan fought to resist the urge to pout at that. That kind of reaction was saved for when he was just with Hongbin and Wonsik. He didn’t think that the other three had quite accessed that friendship level yet. Well, maybe Sanghyuk would find it cute. 

He could feel Sanghyuk’s gaze lingering on him like he was waiting for Jaehwan’s reaction but just never got one. He chose to ignore it. There was a lull in which the conversation reached its natural end with the important points hashed out and Jaehwan’s mind was free to turn to the second most important thing in his life which was that of food. 

The rest of the group usually shared in that sentiment so it surprised no one when Hongbin asked, “Okay, is there anything else we need to resolve here before we embark on the very important quest for lunch?” 

“Oh,” said Hakyeon, surprising everyone, “Actually there is. It’s more of a logistics thing and isn’t that big of a deal but still. So now that Taekwoon’s here, I was hoping we could rearrange the rooming arrangement.” His sentence was lifted so that it was more of a question as he looked at the rest of them hopefully. “We only have three rooms, though, so I know that might be a bit of a problem…”

Sanghyuk blinked several times before he realized, “Wait. Are you kicking me out?”

Now it was Hakyeon’s turn for embarrassment, “All children have to move out some time, right?”

Sanghyuk muttered something under his breath that sounded distinctly like, “Not a child.” Jaehwan chewed on his lower lip, reminding himself not to snicker. 

“Jaehwan’s the only one with his own room,” Wonsik pointed out. 

“I’m fine with— with giving up my room if Sanghyuk wants it. I can sleep pretty much anywhere,” said Jaehwan, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Sanghyuk looked at him strangely, “No? I’m fine with sharing a room if you’re alright with it.”

“No! Yeah, that’s— that’s perfectly fine with me.”

Hongbin rolled his eyes, some deep amusement hidden behind his serene smile. Jaehwan knew that they all must be able to see the rising color to his cheeks and the tips of his ears. His life, as of late, had seemed to be one embarrassment after another.

— 

“Things could be worse,” Jaehwan admitted, carrying over a box stuffed full of Sanghyuk’s clothing, “You could be as high maintenance as Hakyeon.” 

“Or as high maintenance as you,” Sanghyuk pointed out, plugging the charger into his laptop, “Where in the world do you get all of your money to buy this much Supreme anyways?” 

“Oh, just,” Jaehwan gestured vaguely, “Places.” 

“You’re the type of person who practices to see how fast they can order stuff off of the website because you don’t want to miss any drops, huh?” asked Sanghyuk.

Just a month ago, in his small and cramped room back at Elysium Funeral Services, he had stayed up until midnight doing just that. In his defense, he may technically be from the time of Ancient Greece, but he figured that he may as well try to keep up with the present trends, even if they did get a bit ridiculous sometimes. Also, Hongbin had once timed him for an 8 second checkout so that was impressive in its own right. “No,” he lied smoothly, “I get everything off Ebay.”

“Uh huh,” said Sanghyuk, “Something tells me that you’re just not the type of guy to be okay with the resale prices.” 

“Alright, _fine_ you caught me. We can all have our hobbies,” Jaehwan grumbled, dropping the box on the bed, “You have Overwatch and I like to spend gratuitous amounts of money on clothing.”

“...I don’t think those are quite the same thing.”

Jaehwan flipped him off, “I helped you carry over your stuff, I’m offering you a fair and even split of the room, and this is how you repay me?”

“Back in Hakyeon’s room I had my own bed,” Sanghyuk pointed out smartly.

“We didn’t think this far ahead when we were planning,” nearly whined Jaehwan, “You complain too much.”

“You— don’t have a problem with sharing a bed?” 

Jaehwan determinedly made himself very busy reshuffling his own clothing to make room for Sanghyuk’s, “No, it’s— fine. Just— don’t kick me off or steal the blanket in the middle of the night and we should be fine.” 

“Noted,” said Sanghyuk dropping into the desk chair, spinning around in it, then turning to face Jaehwan, “Hey, I was wondering if—” 

“Jaehwan?” Interrupted a soft voice. They both turned suddenly to face whoever it was and oh, it was Taekwoon. That was genuinely a surprise. “I was just wondering if we could talk.” 

_Talk_.

Jaehwan privately wondered how civil these discussions were going to be. After things between the two of them started heading south, it never took very long for something incredibly minor to blow up into a long lasting feud. He really didn’t want to consider himself a petty person, but if there was one thing he had learned about himself lately, it was that he found it much harder to let go of grudges than he had ever anticipated. He couldn’t very well deny Taekwoon, so he found himself sighing and rising from the bed. “Fine,” he said, his tone one of convincing boredom, “Make yourself at home while I’m away, Sanghyuk.” 

“Oh yeah, forgot this is my home now too,” said Sanghyuk cheekily and he initially turned around to glare at him, but Sanghyuk just gave him a two-fingered salute in response and waved him out of the room. 

Jaehwan felt oddly fond of his barbed words. In the beginning, when they had just met, Sanghyuk’s words were angled to hurt and harm and drive away. But now, he found himself enjoying their banter more than he really should. 

They walked through the living room and through the van’s doors in silence. It felt a little too much like he was walking to the executioner’s block. Even though he racked his brain, trying to remember what he had done over the past couple days, he didn’t think that he had said or done anything that offended Taekwoon enough to warrant any major sort of reprieve. 

The wind tousled their hair, the crisp and clean coastal air washing over his skin. Taekwoon absent-mindedly rearranged his hair back to a somewhat presentable state and whispered something quietly to the wind. _Cease_. 

The weather responded to his request and they were left with a serene sky. It might have been calming but whenever Taekwoon was around, it felt a little more like the calm before a storm. 

They headed toward a nearby forest and at this point, Taekwoon still hadn’t said anything. He knew that he was more prone to silence than any of the others but still, it didn’t help his growing nerves. Hongbin had once said that he talked too much to fill the silence. He couldn’t help it. It was just in his nature. It wasn’t so harmless, though, when he decided to fill the space with his antagonizing instead. “Headed kind of far out today, aren’t we?” Jaehwan said, trying for a conversational tone, “Not going to try to kill me again, are you?” 

Taekwoon glared at him like he wished that his powers over the wind and sky expanded far enough to be able to command Jaehwan to shut up at will too. But he just shook his head, “No, I just wished to talk with you away from everyone else. I don’t like it in there.” 

“What is it this time? Has my sense of interior design offended you?”

Taekwoon didn’t rise to the bait, “No, I don’t like being surrounded by people I do not know.” 

“What is this about, Taekwoon? You know that I would rather be literally anywhere else but here with you.”

Taekwoon looked down at his shoes, the gesture striking him as something both familiar and foreign. Familiar in that Jaehwan knew very well that Taekwoon was just stalling because he had a lot on his mind, but was simply never good at expressing it in words. Foreign in that Taekwoon had never looked so young to Jaehwan; with an overly large sweater and sleeves long enough to cover his hands, he was having a bit of trouble reconciling his memories with the Taekwoon that stood in front of him. “I just,” Taekwoon hesitated, “wanted to know if you were well.”

Well, that wasn’t what he had been expecting at all. 

Jaehwan studied Taekwoon. He forgot how much he hated this. Serious conversations with Taekwoon were always one big puzzle where he had to somehow deduce what he actually meant behind his clipped sentences. Doing that was much easier than acknowledging the pained ache in his chest. If only he could wish away his memories as easily as Taekwoon willed away the meddling breeze because this certainly wasn’t the time to remember weary nights after a long days in the saddle, Taekwoon taking his time to seek him out amongst the natural frenzy of camp life, taking his hands in his, and whispering, “Are you well—?” _No. I don’t want to remember._

Taekwoon certainly wasn’t asking after his well being this time around. “You’re asking how I feel about having you here,” surmised Jaehwan with a calculating look. 

Taekwoon said nothing. 

“I’m not in the mood to talk circles around you trying to guess what you want,” Jaehwan began to pace the space of the clearing, feeling like he had too much energy to compensate for Taekwoon’s lack of movement or expression. “Let’s drop the pretenses. What were you thinking? You want me to forgive you and let everything from our past go, is that it?”

“I just wanted you to realize that I know I made a mistake,” said Taekwoon quietly.

Jaehwan bristled at that, turning away sharply and beginning to pace, “A mistake is forgetting your keys at home. You would really call murdering your best friend a mistake?” 

“Don’t pretend like you had no fault in what happened.” 

“That did not warrant _killing_ me.”

“Debatable.” 

Jaehwan made a frustrated noise and whirled back upon him, “You decided that because I was the only one that stood in your way, killing me was justifiable? If I had not been there, you would have slaughtered those people and for what? Your ambition? Your political pursuits? Revenge?”

Taekwoon actually scoffed at that, narrowing his eyes, “Don’t act like that’s what it was about.”

“Was it not?” he challenged, “Everything comes back to your pride, in the end. What’s a couple hundred of civilians to you if it means that you get your way in the end, right?”

“I can see that you never learned the consequences of running your mouth,” Taekwoon said.

_No, because you always liked it when I would talk too much. It gave you an excuse to kiss me quiet instead or get me down on my knees to force your cock in my mouth and shut me up._ Jaehwan’s brain seemed very, very determined to work against him today. Oh, he was full of self loathing. He finally settled on, “I’m talkative.” 

“I remember.”

Jaehwan stopped pacing to turn and stare at Taekwoon who met his gaze with equal steadiness. He fell quiet. “What is this about, Taekwoon?” 

“I just—” Taekwoon scowled a little, annoyed at himself for not being able to clearly express whatever it was that he wanted to say to Jaehwan, “I suppose I just wanted a second chance to try and make things right with you.” 

Jaehwan’s jaw clenched so hard he almost gave himself a headache, “You destroyed any chance of reconciliation when you killed me. Taekwoon, you know that I loved you. Even if I hadn’t gone on to love you romantically, you were still my best friend and my brother. Did that not mean anything to you?” 

Taekwoon fell silent, the woods eerily quiet without the rustle of branches against each other. The birds above them chirped cheery songs across the way to one another. “You were as dear to me as well,” said Taekwoon and the words felt like a punch to the gut, his own throat tightening horribly, “This is why I wanted to talk to you. If the Fates were to bring me back and somehow guide me back to you, I don’t want to waste this.”

Jaehwan shuttered his feelings away, the taste of laughter ironic in his mouth, “I don’t want this anymore. Do you know what I think? I still think it’s quite a cruel twist in the world that our souls are still bound together. Gods, I can’t even escape you in death. I thought I could forgive you, after all this time, it should have been easy, right? But all those years ago, you took so much from me and you kept taking. I gave so much of myself to you that I didn’t even fight back. I can’t just— just forget all this anger that you’ve left in me.” 

The words exhausted him, draining him and leaving him spent like he had just run a marathon. He couldn’t stomach the sight of even looking at Taekwoon right now. Whatever he might have seen in those eyes would have broken him, so he turned away. 

“Jaehwan—” 

“Go,” he snarled. 

The tone in Taekwoon’s voice was definitely more bitter now as he said, “You can not put all the blame for this on me.”

Jaehwan snapped. The power inside of him, growing steadily as his anger mounted, lashed out like an invisible whip in a circle around him. The temperature plummeted. The grass underneath his feet withered and died, the beautiful white flowers that dappled the ground were drained of life. The birds cried out in panicked unison, taking flight away, away from the human that had come into their world wielding the power of death itself. The remaining skeletons of the trees creaked ominously as Jaehwan tried to reign in his shuddering breath, “I told you to leave.”

He closed his eyes, listening to Taekwoon’s cautious, receding footsteps. 

When he opened them again, he was left amongst the remains of a forest that just minutes ago had been teeming with life.The blackened landscape around him twisted his heart with a guilt that he could not describe.

“Damn you, Taekwoon.”

— 

“Taekwoon, where’s Jaehwan?” 

Taekwoon shrugged, picking half-heartedly at his lunch. 

Sanghyuk’s mind helpfully supplied him with the brief vision of Jaehwan, bleeding out somewhere in the forest they had just left behind. “Uh—?” 

“No,” said Taekwoon, sounding very put out upon as if this was a question he was asked multiple times a day, “I did not kill him again.” 

“That’s reassuring,” said Wonsik calmly, “Mortally wounded?”

“If Jaehwan were mortally wounded, we would have heard about it by now,” said Hongbin, “Have you forgotten how much of a drama queen he is? He would have literally just screamed his lungs out until one of us heard him.” 

“Hmm,” said Taekwoon. 

“Did no one really not notice he was gone?” asked Hakyeon in disbelief.

“No, I noticed,” Hongbin said, “But I figured that if Taekwoon came back without Jaehwan then he’s throwing a temper tantrum somewhere and it’s probably best that we just leave him alone until he decides to come back.” 

“Is he just fond of picking fights?” asked Sanghyuk, “Has he always been like that?” 

“It’s gotten worse over the years,” said Wonsik, scrolling through his phone as he took a sip of his cola. “We’ve just theorized that the longer he’s alive, the more time he has to be insufferable and grow bitter.” 

“How is he supposed to find us again if we’re already on the road?” asked Hakyeon.

Hongbin shrugged, “He has his ways.” 

As if on cue, the temperature dipped in the room and Jaehwan stepped out of the shadow cast by the staircase in the adjacent living room. Sanghyuk would have expected some sort of snippy greeting to the four, no, five of them now, but Jaehwan just disappeared into their shared room, quietly closing the door.

“He’s sulking,” said Hongbin helpfully.

“Without a change in scenery soon, I think that we’re all starting to get a bit—” Wonsik searched for the word but eventually gave up, shrugging, “Eh, you guys know what I mean.” 

“Yes, I too love staring out the window of the Odyssey to watch the riveting scenery of straight four lane freeway for hours on end,” said Hakyeon with cheer.

“Say what you will but at least that means that I can leave the van on autopilot,” said Hongbin, “It’s the only type of road simple enough for my spells to comprehend.” 

“Fair,” conceded Hakyeon.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better we have to make a pit stop in California anyways,” said Wonsik, steepling his fingers, “Jaehwan’s map can’t get a close enough reading on Thanatos’ location and he needs artifacts, apparently, to hone in on it. Most convenient destination on the way up north is Monterey Bay.” 

Sanghyuk groaned aloud, sinking down into his chair, “But that’s like another four days at the very least.” 

“Car can only drive so fast,” said Hongbin apologetically. 

“Are you sure it’s even safe to stop and linger for that long?” asked Hakyeon, always the worrier, “With the six of us, I really don’t want to attract any monsters for no reason.” 

“I think we’ll be fine,” said Hongbin, “Though I probably shouldn’t be saying anything because with our luck…” 

“Will Jaehwan be okay with this?” questioned Sanghyuk.

“He may have the tendency to be a bit paranoid,” acknowledged Wonsik, “but he’s also prone to lose his mind if kept in the same place for too long so yeah, I’d say he’d agree with us.” 

“I think he’ll enjoy spending some more time with his new roommate, anyways,” Hongbin smiled knowing at him while Sanghyuk glared.

Hakyeon’s laugh was gratingly teasing and this seemed to puzzle Taekwoon even more who looked around the table, “Am I— missing something?”

“Don’t worry about it.” 

— 

Jaehwan rested his head against the window, staring blankly ahead out at the passing scenery. It simply never changed. He didn’t really know why he was subjecting himself to this as entertainment except the Overwatch servers had gone down, thus taking his life with them. For all that he teased Sanghyuk for his gaming habit, his was just as bad. He played a couple rounds of Hongbin once, but had been kicked out of his team when the skill gap between them was just too big and Hongbin refused to embark on a losing streak. He had never quite had the attention span for the game until he found that the game’s experience was much improved when it gave him the excuse to stay up until two or three in the morning fooling around with Sanghyuk. The thought of Sanghyuk, at least, was a pleasant distraction. 

It was much easier to pry his mind off of the thought of Taekwoon when he was around, at the very least. 

He sighed softly, his breath fogging up the window. The land stayed perfectly level and the sand went on, and on, and on. The cactus broke up the monotony, sort of. And there were, well, rocks. Lots of rocks. Red, and black, and some more red, and oh, there was tumbleweed too. 

Four and a half hours from Arizona to Los Angeles. And another four and a half to Monterey Bay. He had never accounted for the travel time when they were planning their great and elaborate trips. When he envisioned it all, it was always an idealized version of adventure and in his head, the passing scenery was at least more interesting than this, but it seemed as if he forgot just how big of a country this was as well as just how bland the entire middle section was. 

Still, he would miss this when he was home. He would miss waking up to Sanghyuk’s bed head, the quiet calm of travel, and the neverending thrill of, “What’s next?” 

Then, with a shock, he remembered. He probably wouldn’t ever be going home. He swallowed the thought down with some difficulty. Before Taekwoon’s arrival, the prophecy still felt far off. In theory, he knew that they were more than just words but now, it seemed more real than ever. 

It was odd how content Jaehwan was to simply live his life as if he didn’t have the impending knowledge of his death in the foreseeable future. Maybe it was because he had lived so long without truly fearing it that death had lost its meaning. But it was still there, lying in wait like a snake in the grass.

He traced invisible patterns onto the window’s glass. How would he die, he wondered. In battle like the heroes of old? Would they mourn him? He closed his eyes, exhaling with more force than usual. Sometimes death felt so tangible when he was a sword swing away from meeting his end. It felt almost familiar, considering how long he had lived with meeting his various ends, each one different with every life. 

A lover had once chided him, voice low in his ears. Had called him out for his fantasies of dying as a martyr. Was it so wrong, though, to hope that his death would mean something to the world? He wondered idly if he had ever changed.

The land of red raced on beyond the asphalt tracks and Jaehwan found himself missing home with an ache in his heart that surprised him, missing the tall trees and the babbling creek and above all, the quietness of peace. 

— 

“Sa-anghyuk!” Hakyeon drew the syllables out as he crashed on the couch with Sanghyuk, throwing his arms around him. Predictably, Sanghyuk made a disgusted noise, his phone screen going black as he squirmed away. “What were you looking at?” He needled.

“Nothing, by the gods, get off of me!” cried Sanghyuk, trying with half-hearted attempts to get Hakyeon off of him, “You’re so nosy—” 

“Only because you’ve been ignoring me lately, Hyukkie—” 

Sanghyuk groaned theatrically, “You’re disgusting, I’m not twelve anymore. And you’ve been the one ignoring me! ” 

“Hyukie?” asked Jaehwan, his lips quirking up in amusement.

“Don’t you start,” Sanghyuk warned and Hakyeon took advantage of his distraction to hug him tighter.

“You don’t talk to me ever since you switched rooms.”

“You’re the one that kicked me out!” pointed out Sanghyuk, giving up and letting himself be held by Hakyeon but not without sending out a silent plea for help to Jaehwan through his pained expression, “And _this_ is exactly why we don’t talk anymore.” 

The car jerked to a sudden stop and the Odyssey let out a blaring honk. Wonsik turned around apologetically, “Excuse Hongbin’s driving, the traffic is uh, not looking too good.” 

“And I thought we left the traffic behind in L.A.,” said Jaehwan, reaching up to stretch, “But I forgot that you never really leave traffic behind in California.” 

“What are we looking for while we’re here, anyways?” asked Hakyeon, finally relinquishing Sanghyuk from his hold but now using him as a pillow. 

“Aren’t you from the area?” he asked suddenly. 

“I am,” said Hakyeon, now rather cautiously. “Why?”

 

“I have some contacts who keep track of magical artifacts throughout the country. A friend of a friend of mine has informed me that what we’re looking for in Monterey is an artifact of Poseidon, actually. A gift from your father to a human female he was courting. Apparently she sold it and it’s on display in an exhibit right now in an aquarium and nobody has any idea of its worth,” Jaehwan said, “So there’s your fun fact of the day.” 

“Am I allowed to sell it after we’re done with it?” asked Hakyeon, “I swear, though, if it’s that stupid little figurine that we always kept on top of the piano…” 

“No idea what it looks like,” Jaehwan said cheerfully, “I was just going to kind of wander around and hope we find it.” 

“That seems to be a recurring theme in your life,” said Sanghyuk as the car pulled to a halt. 

“You aren’t wrong,” admitted Jaehwan, “And judging by the fact that Hongbin has stopped proficiently cursing about the woes of parallel parking, I’d say we’re here.” 

“Oh, good, I’d love to follow you out but— Hakyeon, get off of me!” 

— 

Hongbin looked at the ticket prices, laughing in a disbelieving manner, “Fifty dollars for every person to get in?” He shook his head, “Yeah, that’s not happening.” Apparently just a glimpse of a passerby’s ticket was enough for Hongbin to easily make duplicates for the rest of them and he handed them out, making Jaehwan feel particularly like a kid on a field trip.

“Couldn’t you just work your voodoo magic on the ticket checker instead?” asked Hakyeon, slipping his ticket into his pocket.

“I try not to mess with their brains too much,” Hongbin explained, “Even harmless modifications don’t seem to do any harm but in the long run, you never know.” 

They got a bit of a funny look at the front gate but Jaehwan supposed that a group of six college aged boys deciding to take a daytrip to a museum made them look like a group of touring foreigners. He sincerely hoped that no one would look at them and automatically assume K-Pop band. 

Wonsik plucked a folded map and brochure from the front kiosk and they gathered in a loose semi circle around him. “This place is way too big to not have to split up to find it,” he said, “What exactly does it look like again, Jaehwan?”

“Poseidon-y,” said Jaehwan, earning him a disgruntled glare from Taekwoon. “No, really, I don’t know! Just— you should be able to feel it. If it’s an artifact from a major god, even if you’re not Hakyeon, you should be able to tell. Theoretically.”

Hongbin sighed, taking his phone out of his pocket, “Alright, I don’t think that any monsters should bother us while we’re here but if anything seems out of the ordinary, I’d rather have you play it safe than anything else. Grab food, don’t die, and be back here before the aquarium closes.”

“I really do feel like I’m in grade school again,” muttered Sanghyuk beside him. It lifted his spirits a bit now that he knew that he wasn’t the only one. 

Sanghyuk surprised him by nudging him with his elbow, “Ready to go, then?” 

Jaehwan fought to not show any outward reaction, slipping his hands into his jacket’s pockets, “Yeah, of course. I— thought you’d want to go with Hakyeon.”

“I’ve already spent most of my life with him,” said Sanghyuk easily as they headed up the stairs, “I think I prefer your company anyways.” 

“Of course,” Jaehwan said with swaggering bravado. “It takes a special person like you to recognize my finer qualities.” As they walked deeper into the aquarium proper, the lights began to dim and the walls lengthened. They stopped in front of the wide panel of glass, the only thing separating them between what looked like the open ocean. The kelp forest swayed in a mesmerizing afternoon dance, the light not as dense on top of the canopy. 

“Oh,” Sanghyuk said, “I am well aware of your finer qualities.”

Sanghyuk didn’t seem aware of the effect it had on him when his voice deepened like that and Jaehwan always felt like he was fighting a losing battle to not get flustered when they were alone. 

“Anyways,” said Sanghyuk, “Doesn’t seem to be here. Let’s keep looking.”

Jaehwan blinked, “Right— yeah.” 

— 

“I don’t think this is what Hongbin meant when he told us to get lunch,” said Sanghyuk with no real disapproval in his voice as they stood in front of the sea otter exhibit, cups full of ice cream in hand. “I also think that I severely underestimated how bad your lack of focus was.” 

“It’s like one big group project,” said Jaehwan, words warped around his spoon, “If it’s important enough, somebody will get it done and that somebody doesn’t always have to be us.” 

Sanghyuk laughed and Jaehwan wished he could take that memory of his smile with him forever. “I wonder if the others have had more luck than us,” he said, reaching over to steal a spoonful of Jaehwan’s mint chocolate chip, “What will we do if we can’t find it?”

“It’ll show up,” Jaehwan said with sureness, “I think the only reason it’s taking so long is because the rest of them are screwing around just like us.” 

“Going on their own mini dates?” asked Sanghyuk.

He paused, fidgeting a bit, “Something like that.” 

They lapsed into a comfortable silence after that, watching the otters. One floated by on its back, content to let the water lap gently at its feet before two smaller ones zipped by, playful and tumbling in their aquasphere and disrupting its very brief midday nap. “I think the last time I was at an aquarium was when I was a proper teenager,” said Sanghyuk suddenly, “Kind of embarrassing, actually. I was so lanky and skinny back then, even compared to my girlfriend.”

Jaehwan felt a sinking, disappointed feeling in his stomach. Of course, he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up before anything had happened. But he liked to think that his intuition wasn’t all that terrible, but maybe he had been completely misreading everything Sanghyuk did and said. He finally managed to get the words out past his dry throat, “Your girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” Sanghyuk said casually, oblivious to the effect of his offhand comment, “Back when I still thought I was into girls. I mean, I really liked her, don’t get me wrong. But everything just felt, I dunno, off. I can’t really explain it. I just— It’s a weird feeling when you’ve been told your entire life that you’re expected to marry a girl and settle down and you just can’t see yourself doing it, you know?” 

A little crease in his brow appeared as his memory raced through all of his different life times. Sometimes there were girls with hands so soft and a heart so strong that Jaehwan had fallen for faster than he realized. He had followed some of them to the ends of the earth, had let them shape and reform his lives like a force of nature. He had loved boys just as much, though. They were laughter deep into the night and the dawn of new days and new opportunities. Jaehwan realized, with a start, just how many people he had loved and lost, but marveled that despite it all, he could only truly say that he was ever in love with one. 

He was quite decidedly out of love with Taekwoon but, still. It had happened once upon a time. But it was an experience that left him so badly burned that Jaehwan had stopped chasing after it at all. He didn’t like to think about it very often but his love life had quite the abysmal track record.

“I— think I know what you mean but I think that ideal has its merits as well,” said Jaehwan. Then carefully, “So I’m assuming that somewhere along the way, you realized you were into guys instead?” 

“Yeah,” Sanghyuk said casually, fixing Jaehwan with an appraising look. The kind that lingered and traveled down the length of his body, undressing him with his eyes. And this Jaehwan feel a myriad of very strong emotions all at once, “Something like that.” 

Their eyes met and Jaehwan couldn’t quite find himself with the willpower to look away. He felt, no, he knew that if he just had the courage to lean in ever so slightly, he could kiss Sanghyuk and thread his fingers in his hair to pull him closer. But Sanghyuk abruptly broke the moment by turning away sharply, and Jaehwan felt the world return to him in a rush. 

“Jaehwan, what’s that over there?” he said suddenly, pointing into the otter’s exhibit. The zoo worker walked in, hitting the switch to open the gates to what was presumably the hidden part of the exhibit. A sea otter from the back pools zipped in, as inquisitive and playful as the rest of its tank mates. It swam to the bottom of the tank, pursuing another otter but in its zeal, it knocked over a loose rock fixture, revealing a decorative statue behind it.

It was a smooth stone statue, classically styled after the Hellenistic art period of sculpture, Jaehwan’s mind helpfully supplied. It couldn’t have measured over half a meter and looked quite at home as a statue of Poseidon in an aquarium exhibit. Save for the odd lifelike quality of its eyes that seemed to stare right through them. 

The artifact’s power would of course be lessened through a layer of glass and water and Jaehwan hadn’t even considered that it might be cast aside as a display for an exhibit. The statue’s aura was more of a gentle hum, than anything else. Its power ebbed and flowed but it wasn’t particularly strong. Now that it had been noticed, though, it felt like a gentle push on the edge of his consciousness, urging him to drop everything else and pay attention to it.

“In case you were wondering, I’m really not up for breaking in there and taking a swim,” said Sanghyuk with a grimace, “My friends back at uni would never let me live it down if they saw this in the news.” 

“Me neither,” Jaehwan readily agreed, then lowered his voice into a conspiratory tone as he scanned the environment. “Alright, hear me out. All we have to do is get Hongbin here with us, get him to magic us into the employee’s costumes, sneak backstage, get Hongbin to use the Force, or whatever, then retrieve the statue and hope that the mortals’ brains concoct a logical explanation for it.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea. Why don’t we just get Hakyeon to— ” 

A low growl rumbled through the air, barely distinct to even a demigod’s ear. Jaehwan ran a hand through his hair, tousling it, “I sincerely hope that I was just imagining that because Hongbin distinctly said that we should have until evening before the local monsters realize that we’re in town and decide to try and eat us.” 

Sanghyuk stood, looking distinctly uneasy, “No, I heard it too.” 

Jaehwan swore under his breath, shooting off an urgent text to the group chat telling them in no uncertain terms that the artifact was here and they needed to meet up now. “We need to get that thing as quickly as we can and leave before whatever’s out there tries to attack us.”

“What if the monster gets to us before that?”

“Then we fight,” Jaehwan said simply.

“And the mortals?”

“The veil will conceal most of what is going on from them. Their funny little brains always simplify even the most unnatural things into concepts they can understand, don’t worry about them,” he said dismissively. 

Sanghyuk still looked like he was reluctant to drop the issue when Hakyeon and Taekwoon came running from around the corner, Hakyeon especially looking out of breath. “What is it?” Jaehwan asked urgently.

“The monster—” Hakyeon panted, his eyes wide, “It’s some kind of lion, it came straight up out of the earth—” 

Jaehwan swore again and he knew that him and Taekwoon had reached the same conclusion, “The Nemean Lion.” 

“We’re going to die,” Hakyeon moaned in despair.

“No we’re not,” Sanghyuk said decisively and pointed toward the exhibit where the otters were looking quite a bit more worked up than they were half an hour ago, “The artifact’s in there but it’s under water. Do you think you can get it?”

“I’d need to get in there somehow,” Hakyeon said tersely, feeling the new added constraint of time. The once relatively still waters churned as the otters began to panic. It made sense for the mortals to not notice anything amiss but animals as a whole were always much more perceptive than humans and could probably sense the very real and impending danger. 

“The artifact— ” interrupted Hongbin, running up to greet them out of breath, “Where is it?” Sanghyuk gestured toward the exhibit and Hongbin made an annoyed noise at the back of his throat, “Oh, for the gods’ sake—” He blasted the door open and there was a startled scream from an employee inside. “Hakyeon, let’s go.”

The lion roared, now, and this time the sound was much closer. They froze in their places. Jaehwan glanced through the glass to see that all of the otters had hid. A chill ran down his spine. Outside, the monster snuffed and grunted, trying to sniff out its demigod prey. Its resounding growl seemed to travel through the ground and vibrate within the walls of the aquarium. 

Jaehwan recalled the tales of the Nemean lion. He and Taekwoon had been lucky enough to never face it. 

The fake backdrop of rocks separating the exhibit from the aquarium shattered by a mighty blow from a gargantuan paw. “Fuck,” said Taekwoon quietly and he might have laughed if his brain weren’t concocting a hundred different ways to panic instead. The lion’s massive head swung this way and that, its shaggy mane dripping wet with water. Then it caught sight of the group of six demigods straight ahead.

“Run!” 

The glass shattered as the lion barged through, the water flooding out into the viewing area. The mortals around them screamed, doing their best to head for the exits. Jaehwan vaguely wondered what they saw. Maybe this was just a huge plumbing issue to them. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hakyeon bend the water and bring the artifact to him. Hongbin caught it and as soon as it touched his hand, it disappeared, presumably teleported back to the Odyssey. Well, at least they got that much accomplished.

Now they just needed to not get eaten by a lion in the middle of California. 

He took in the battlefield in bits and pieces.

Now that the exhibit glass was broken, Taekwoon and Sanghyuk should be able to retrieve their weapons. Wonsik stood by his side, a fire already sparking in his palms. And Jaehwan stood directly in front of the beast. 

The ground split open and Jaehwan summoned his sword from beneath the earth, barely having enough time to roll underneath its massive paw as it reached out to swipe him. This was going to be a very different fight from the Minotaur. Fighting a Minotaur was like baiting a bull. Fighting the Nemean Lion was about being able to react quickly enough to not become a snack. 

The impact of the lion’s pounce shattered the bench that he and Sanghyuk had been sitting on not too long ago. “We need to draw it out into the open!” Jaehwan called to the rest of them, dodging a lash of its tail. 

“We’ll buy you time,” called out Hongbin from the other side of the room. Jaehwan glanced sideways. If Hakyeon and Hongbin distracted it for just a couple seconds, they would have enough time to make it down to the main foyer to even out the fight. 

Despite having never fighting together as a team, they worked like a well oiled machine. With one eye on the lion and the other on their exit, Jaehwan took off at a dead sprint. The lion lunged after him. Hakyeon drew up the water that spilled from the exhibit and molded it into a spherical cage, trapping it just moments before it would have crushed Jaehwan beneath its weight. It roared in frustration, muscles bulging as it refocused his efforts into breaking free, but Hongbin’s magic only strengthened the aquatic prison. 

It would take too long to take the stairs. Taekwoon glanced at him and Jaehwan followed. “We’re jumping,” Taekwoon said calmly, perched on the ledge of the balcony.

“Are you fucking crazy?” blanched Sanghyuk, his face pale.

“Nope, come on, let’s go,” Jaehwan said, hauling Wonsik and Sanghyuk up on the ledge with them. 

Something shattered behind them and the lion bound out of its cage, heading straight for them. They had no time to think. 

Jaehwan jumped. 

He felt himself falling, plummeting. With a snap in the air, Taekwoon slowed them down so that they all landed on their feet. Sanghyuk took a moment longer to respond, frozen in fear with his eyes tightly shut before he realized he was still alive. Wonsik gave him a bodily shove and his grip around his bow tightened. 

The fire alarms blared through the museum as the lion landed on the ground shortly after them, not wasting a moment before charging bodily at Taekwoon. 

Taekwoon moved with practiced ease, neatly sidestepping and bringing his sword of celestial bronze down upon the side of the lion’s leg. The metal gleamed a brilliant light, as blinding as the sun. It was a sword of Apollo’s, a bestowed gift. The blow bounced harmlessly off the lion’s pelt and Taekwoon was forced back onto the defensive, dodging and rolling out of the way. 

A great burst of flame came from the flankers, but Wonsik’s stream of fire was simply consumed by its lustrous pelt and it had no effect. Hongbin’s spear of pure energy shot through the air, slamming the creature with an impact that should have knocked it down but instead, it left him only a little disoriented and that much angrier.

“We need to find its weak spot,” yelled out Hakyeon.

“I’m not sure if it has any!” Sanghyuk retorted with an almost annoyed tone, his arrow nocked and ready. It flew straight for its eye but the lion simply batted it away and turned on him.

Jaehwan felt a rush of panic for Sanghyuk had no means to defend himself against any sort of direct attack. The lion’s massive head came bearing down on him with its maw open wide and Jaehwan couldn’t move fast enough to stop it.

But he didn’t have to because Taekwoon was there, his sword propping the lion’s mouth open, his muscles visibly straining under the pressure. Jaehwan was there by his side, his sword cleaving through a sideways swing, tearing a gash open on the inside of the monster’s mouth. The lion roared in anguish, staggering backwards, great drops of blood bleeding on the ground. It shook its head, fur bristling.

Sanghyuk took that as his cue to get out of there and find higher ground, retreating back to the balcony with Hakyeon. 

He was acutely aware of Taekwoon by his side and hated how right it felt again. His habits were knocked back into equilibrium and they stood side by side, facing down the world again. Well, if there was one thing they had always been good at it, it was using brute force and outstanding swordsmanship to punch their way out of situations. 

Faced with two opponents, the lion was forced to dive for Jaehwan, leaving one side exposed. Jaehwan knew, like the back of his hand, what Taekwoon was going to do. He feinted to the left and a crack of lightning shattered the air, staggering it. It snarled in pain and Jaehwan took advantage of the millisecond to try and injure it again but ended up having to dodge quickly out of the way to avoid getting his arm chomped off. 

From the balcony, an arrow flew, aiming for its open mouth and just barely missing. 

“It’s too fast to hit its weak spot,” Jaehwan grit out, his swordwork more of a defensive series of parries than any real offensive strategy. The beast backed him into a corner, Hongbin’s magic and Wonsik’s fire doing no real damage to its impenetrable coat. Just a moment before the lion got him, he created a void in the ground, letting himself fall into it and appearing on the other side of the lion from the shadows casted by a display From the void he created came the hollow creaking of bones, a legion of the dead that would surely not last very long under assault from the beast, but it would buy them time. 

They would not be able to win this without thinking beyond the scope of their abilities. He looked up. Of course— they would just have to use the environment around them instead.

The lion made quick work of his little conjured army and Taekwoon drew the beast’s attention to him instead. “Jaehwan, I sincerely hope you’re thinking of a plan,” he said, eyes narrowed as a gust of phantom wind blew through the aquarium, giving Taekwoon a supernatural burst to his speed as he turned the game of cat and mouse into a dance. 

A fissure in the earth appeared and it trapped the lion’s paw in place before it almost came bearing down on Taekwoon. 

Jaehwan scanned the great lobby. There was nothing in particular that would do them any good unless Hakyeon made the executive decision to break open the huge tank at the end of the hall and harness the water there. He was standing in the shadow of something— he looked up. It was a figure of a whale, probably the size of the lion itself. If they could crush it under its weight, they would have a chance of driving home a finishing blow. 

“Sanghyuk, look up!” he yelled to the two on the balcony. 

His bow was drawn and ready to fire but he stilled and he caught sight of the looming figure, suspended from the ceiling by four cables. Understanding lit up in his eyes and he took aim for the cables that were holding the figure. He shouted something to Hongbin that was lost in translation to Jaehwan because the lion abruptly switched its focus and began sprinting toward Jaehwan.

Anyone less experienced might have frozen up but instead, he threw the sharp energy of his panic into raising the aquarium’s floor from the ground, elevating himself above the lion and creating a tall column of earth that stopped it in its track. Its tail lashed and it looked up, its eyes trained on Jeahwan. 

The Nemean lion began to climb, unsheathed claws gripping onto the unnaturally formed column of earth like a house cat easily scaling a neighborhood tree. Jaehwan jumped and he felt a rush of air bring him back down to the ground as if he simply teleported. 

_Boom!_

Jaehwan looked up to see a flaming arrow rip through the air, exploding on impact with the metal cables. They rocked the figure precariously but it wasn’t quite enough. 

The lion’s ears flattened against its head, tail lashing and it leapt back down to the main floor in pursuit of the two sword wielding demigods. In its haste, it knocked over every kiosk along the way, sending flurries of brochures into the air. “Keep it distracted!” Taekwoon commanded, weaving between its great claws, but the lion decided that it would be a much better use of its time to go for the source of the problem instead. 

Its muscles rippled under its golden pelt as it bound up the railing, headed for Hakyeon and Sanghyuk. Hongbin shouted something, ancient words lost in a panic, and a barrier of energy solidified around the two, protecting them from the worst of the damage.

Taekwoon’s bronze sword gleamed golden as it crackled with electricity and he brought it down as hard as he could on the creature’s side, conjured lightning crackling through the air. The lion, disoriented and battered, leapt down again, coming after Taekwoon, but Jaehwan was quick to bring up Taekwoon’s left side, his weaker side. 

They worked in tandem, complementary weapons of silver and bronze forcing the beast to keep its eyes on them. Hongbin and Wonsik worked together to infuse Sanghyuk’s arrows so that they would explode on impact and the building shook as Sanghyuk’s arrows found their mark every time. The ceiling cracked above them and the figure swayed ominously in the air, suspended in slow motion. Taekwoon glanced at him, their eyes meeting.

They diverged as the metal whale began to fall. The lion’s claws scrabbled against the tile as it tried to gain traction to chase after Taekwoon, but it never made it. The figure fell on top if it, crushing its body under its weight and Jaehwan skidded to a stop several feet away from it. 

The Nemean lion moaned in pitiful pain and the animal lover in Jaehwan felt an almost pang of regret, but he pushed it aside quickly. Taekwoon arrived next to him and with a driving of his sword into the roof of the monster’s mouth, its paw twitched feebly before it breathed its last. 

Taekwoon withdrew, pulling his sword out with the terrible squelch of flesh. Jaehwan grimaced as the monster’s blood was still fresh on both of their clothing. He let out a weary sigh, more winded from the fight than he realized, watching as the body disintegrated into nothing more than a pile of dust. 

He met Taekwoon’s eyes and saw reflected in them the same understanding that he held. They may not like each other very much and Jaehwan was very well capable of holding a grudge until the end of time. But they still hadn’t forgotten how it felt to fight side by side together, knowing each other as intimately as lovers might. Jaehwan remembered, with a pang in his chest, what it felt like when his life was whole again. The moment disappeared quickly, though, when the rest of their group came rushing to them and Jaehwan could feel the palpable sense of being simply grateful that they were all still alive.

He made a small noise of surprise when Sanghyuk greeted him with a crushing hug, his arms wrapped tightly around Jaehwan’s body. Of course, his first reaction had to be crinkling his nose and trying to get out of it, “No, this is gross, I am covered in sweat and blood,” he complained, prying Sanghyuk off.

“You’re so fussy,” Sanghyuk said with fondness in his voice, “I’m glad that you’re still alive.” 

His heart skipped a beat and Jaehwan was left wondering how much courage it would take to kiss Sanghyuk right there in the moment. It certainly felt more than the amount needed to face down the Nemean lion so he refrained. “I’m— glad we’re all alive,” he said, looking around at the five of them, “No thanks to Hongbin who fed us false information but I’d like to think that we can count this as a victory.”

“We should celebrate with drinks,” said Wonsik cheekily.

Jaehwan contemplated this idea for a moment, “...I’m okay with that.” 

“Don’t fuel his bad habits,” Hongbin chastised him, though he looked more relieved than joyful, “Artifact’s back in the Odyssey, let’s get back there before anything else happens.”

“What will happen to the aquarium?” Hakyeon asked. And he brought up a pretty good point. Their little skirmish had not been without any damage to the property. Most notably, their finely sculpted model of a humpback whale was now suffering some rather extensive damage and now lay on the floor instead of swimming through the sky. That wasn’t to count the random fissures and tears in the floor that was Jaehwan’s doing. And the charred metal from Wonsik’s errant flames. And the touchpool of dead fish from Taekwoon’s missed lightning strike. And the bits of light peeking in from the ceiling from Sanghyuk’s explosive arrows. And the completely destroyed otter exhibit and subsequent flooding from Hakyeon’s liberal use of his powers. 

“Well,” said Jaehwan carefully, looking around, “At least they all evacuated.” 

“This will all be just a freak accident,” Taekwoon said, quiet and withdrawn without the light of battle in him.

“Freak accident,” Jaehwan said unconvincingly then frowned a little, “I hope the sea otters are alright, at least.”

Hongbin rolled his eyes and pushed him toward the exit, “They’ll live. You’re really bad at being a Son of Hades, aren’t you?” 

“I have never, in my life, felt the need to comply to the stereotypical image of my half brothers and sisters,” he said defensively and he exercised a considerable amount of self restraint not to react when Sanghyuk threw a casual arm around his shoulder when they walked out. Sanghyuk did have an endearing habit of acting as if they had known each other for much longer than they actually have. “I refuse to be a melodramatic enigma!”

Hakyeon laughed, bright and cheery, “Well, Jaehwan, I’ve got some bad news for you, then…” 

And Jaehwan felt, rather than saw, Taekwoon’s odd and piercing stare from behind him as Sanghyuk pulled him ever closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -So I'm back on a normal update schedule-ish but the chapters are getting longer so an update every 2 weeks or so seems about likely  
> -Keo stresses me out  
> -I hope to get a lot better at replying to comments now that I have the time but just know that I really really appreciate every comment that's left and kudos as well it warms the depths of my cold, cold heart  
> -You can follow me on [twitter](twitter.com/jaehwandred) and [tumblr](chanstraeus.tumblr.com)


	9. Chapter 9

It was an especially cold winter this year, Hakyeon noted as the Odyssey sped through the Pacific Coast Highway, past California, and into Oregon. He had never even bothered to venture this far north and had spent most of his life in California seeking sunny beaches and urban adventures. Though, he could admit that there was a certain charm to the tall, swaying pines and the moody seaside cliffs. 

The sky remained overcast, clouds chasing clouds over the edge of red cliffs and into the sea. Gone were the easy sand covered coastline, replaced with jagged rocks and smooth pebbles. The waves here took on a mind of their own, white seafoam contrasting with the slate grey sky. He could have sworn he once looked out the window to see a horse born from the ocean, the salty spray of water leaping into the air and solidifying into a beautiful white mare, tail lost in the wind. But he blinked again and she was gone. A flight of the imagination, then. 

The team, for lack of better word, had settled into life on the road. He felt a little silly referring to them as that even in his own head, but he couldn’t quite come up with a better description. They didn’t even all get along spectacularly well so it was a miracle that they had lasted so long in such an enclosed space without a large fight breaking out. For the most part, Hakyeon thought that he did what he could to keep the peace. Hongbin and Wonsik as well. He could tell that they weren’t all too fond of Taekwoon, probably based solely on Jaehwan’s words but they were polite to him nonetheless, and he could see that Wonsik was plaintively going out of his way to extend an olive branch of friendship. Taekwoon, unfortunately, was quite blind to it and simply treated Wonsik’s kindness as another reason to mistrust him, always double guessing his intents. Sanghyuk straight up didn’t like Taekwoon and did very little to mask that. Jaehwan avoided him altogether. 

He sighed softly, closing his eyes. Everything boiled down to problems with Taekwoon. But there was nothing he could do about that for now. He would have to simply let everything play out and hope that Taekwoon would prove himself a better man than he was all those lifetimes ago. _Oh, Taekwoon_ , he thought with bittersweet. He presented a much better front to the rest of them than he did to himself. He couldn’t even say with a hundred percent certainty that he felt like he himself knew Taekwoon at all. He had fallen in love with the human, the one with no recollection of his past or even awareness of his powers and now everything had changed. This Taekwoon was moodier and more stand-offish, even to him. Everything was familiar and yet, so different. Hakyeon couldn’t shake the feeling that sometimes, he could barely even recognize him.

Every evening in the Odyssey, they would park the car by the side of the road or, conditions permitting, Hongbin would just set the van on autodrive. That had become less frequent though now that they had to begin traversing mountains and snow and winding roads. Jaehwan would usually cook and though he had his doubts at first, Jaehwan turned out to be a pretty decent chef. He chalked it up to many, many, many years of trial and error. He noticed the way Sanghyuk would interrupt his own schedule to join Jaehwan in the kitchen and help him prepare for meals, but this seemed to only prolong the preparation time. With the two of them laughing away without a care in the world, sometimes their dinner would be pushed all the way back to 9 PM. And even after all that, they would still have more to talk about at the dinner table, jostling each other and snickering at inside jokes like lifelong childhood friends. 

That night Jaehwan had gotten lazy and fallen back on his own favorite and simple food. The rice cooker whistled loudly, calling for his attention while the reheated bulgogi sizzled on the pan. Jaehwan had stolen some kimchi from the nearest Korean supermarket, then complained about how it would never taste as good as his homemade one, and ate it anyways. Sanghyuk had for once made himself useful and threw together a simple fried rice, though Hakyeon could tell that he had learned this particular recipe from his days at university. Throw all of your leftover meats and vegetables and turn it into fried rice and as long as everyone is hungry enough, no one will complain. 

Dinner conversation was mostly carried by Jaehwan. His mouth never seemed to stop, even when he seemed to have nothing of real importance to say. Hongbin and Wonsik proved to be more talkative than he realized, seeming to open up only around each other or with Jaehwan. After a night or two, Hakyeon and Sanghyuk readily joined in too. Hakyeon’s heart filled with the simple kind of happiness that came with bad jokes and soju. The only person that remained quiet through it all was Taekwoon. He would always be the first to leave, a brief hand on Hakyeon’s shoulder, and he would simply take care of his own dishes before retiring for the night. Jaehwan always noticed, his eyes hawk sharp and tracking Taekwoon’s movements before being distracted by Sanghyuk again.

That’s how it was on Friday night too. 

“Don’t even lie,” Hongbin said, jabbing an accusing finger in Jaehwan’s side, “You would do so much more than just sing girl group songs if you were a girl for a day.”

Jaehwan’s affronted face was comically exaggerated and Hakyeon couldn’t help but laugh when Jaehwan scowled and exploded, for theatrical effect, at Hongbin, ranting about how he was a good and pure person with no dirty thoughts. 

He felt the ghost of a hand on his shoulder and the scrape of a chair on the hardwood floor as Taekwoon excused himself from the dinner table. The smile slid off of his face and was replaced with discontent instead. He had thought that time would amend Taekwoon’s demeanor with the rest of them, but there seemed to be no signs of improvement. Taekwoon had always been quiet, but there was something more to this and it pained Hakyeon to not know exactly what it was. 

Hakyeon could feel his spirits dropping and he didn’t wish to sully the others’ good time so he quietly gathered his dishes as well, muttering something about having just a little too much to drink. Hongbin’s gaze lingered on him for a beat too long, making Hakyeon feel as if he knew more than he ever let on. But it passed and they bid him good night.

He flipped the light switch on, the dying light bulbs struggling to turn on and illuminate the space. Hakyeon made a mental note to remind Hongbin that they should take care of it. Small droplets of water still dripped from the faucet and he could feel the ghost of Taekwoon’s footsteps in the kitchen from just mere moments ago. 

Hakyeon turned on the sink, scrubbing at his dishes with more force than necessary. So this is how it was with Taekwoon. Always following, yet always left one step behind, just a second too late. It was maddening, chasing a ghost.

He had wanted to catch him and just, well, he didn’t even know what he wanted to talk about. Hakyeon loaded his dishes on the drying rack, his hands still damp. There was so much left unsaid and Taekwoon was always evading, dropping the subject, promising that they would talk later but with every quiet moment that they found alone, Taekwoon was still just out of reach. 

The moon held vigil to his thoughts, just outside the frosted window. Hakyeon was reluctant to return to his room anyways and paradoxically, Taekwoon was just about the last person he wanted to see right now. 

He glanced back briefly at the dinner table to see that they were still engrossed in their conversation. So he snuck out the back way, cold winter air chilling him straight to the bone. But still, it was home just being so close to the ocean. He let the wind play with his hair, the sea salt seep into his skin, felt the pebbles against his bare feet. The sea was different when he was alone. It always called him to leave the earth and venture beyond the waves but strangely, it also left him with a deep inner sense of peace that the earth could not give him. 

He walked over the pebbles near land and out onto the sand by the sea. It wasn’t quite the same softness as those further south down the coast but up north, the beaches were comparatively untouched. Hakyeon closed his eyes and let the moonlight wash over him. Then, he began to walk. 

Once (he reflected, with a sudden yank of memory), he had visited the seaside with his mother on a day such as this. Moody, pensive, and gray all over. The town they lived in was a medley of different cultures. It was impossible to walk down a street without marveling on the fact that the little Korean restaurants outnumbered the amount of fast food restaurants in the town by two to one. 

It so happened that it would prove impossible to dampen the spirits of Children’s Day. The fifth day of the fifth month.

It was a Japanese holiday and Hakyeon could still remember how badly he had wanted to go down to the shore. _To see the fish_ , he had pleaded, _to see the fish_. They were carp shaped flags in every which color, swimming serpentine patterns through the air like water dragons. The colors, he remembered the colors so vividly as if it were just yesterday: the red of passion, the orange of zest, the yellow of the sun, the green of life, the silver of calm, the black of night, the white of purity, the purple of royalty, the blue, the blue, the blue. The blue of his mother’s dress, the blue of the ocean. And— his mother’s smile which was more radiant and bright than every color combined.

He didn’t quite remember the intricacies of the holiday. It was something about every flag representing a member of the family but they sat down on the edge of the pier, his mother taking his hands in hers. She told him about the legend of the carp fish: how they swam upstream, fighting against the current against all odds. For the carp was small but mighty. There were no obstacles or rocks or humans that could stop the fish from swimming up the river to beyond the waves where it would turn into a dragon. This was why the Japanese considered the carp the strongest fish: full of spirit, energy, and determination. 

A symbol of courage.

Hakyeon opened his eyes, looking out past the break of the waves, shivering slightly despite his warm sweatshirt. How old was he then? Five? At the time, he couldn’t understand why they were at a celebration of Children's’ Day with just the two of them when everyone else’s family seemed so full. He never had a father, but he still grew up with the sea. 

His family situation, he reflected, never truly was “normal.” For several years down the line, they took in Sanghyuk. Unofficially, of course, but after the passing of his own foster mother, Sanghyuk spent an inordinate amount of time at Hakyeon’s house. He smiled a little to himself at the thought of two boys, running along the cliffside and down to the sea. All scraped knees, conspiratory discussions about who their middle school selves found attractive, and the ever looming threat of algebra homework awaiting them at home. 

Some days the ocean was rough and wild, a creature that remained untamed. But Hakyeon liked it the most when it was soft and calming, water lapping at his feet, hiding secrets of colorful shells and schools of fish. But no matter what state it was in, Hakyeon knew that he would always return.

He glanced just beyond the shore to see the waves crashing against another, frothing white. The sea foam writhed in the air, tossing mane and tail and to Hakyeon’s amazement, the figure of a horse rose out of the water. So his previous vision had not been a fluke after all. Its fur was slate gray, ears pricked forward, its silver scales and fish tail illuminated by the moon. “A hippocampus,” he said in wonder, “What are you doing out here?” 

Hakyeon waded into the ocean, the waves calming under his influence. The water surrounded him but could not quite touch him, for which he was grateful. He was already cold enough and the thought of having to endure the temperature while also being soaked to the bones was not desirable. 

The hippocampus nickered to him, moving through the shallow water much more gracefully than he expected. Apparently it had no trouble navigating with two hooves and a tail as it came up to him, drawn to his presence. He wasn’t really sure of the proper etiquette when it came to meeting sea creatures, but he figured the chances of it hurting him were rather low. It looked pretty harmless and didn’t have a lot of sharp, pointy teeth. How hard could horses bite, anyways? 

He laid his palm out flat and the hippocampus’ muzzle grazed his skin, as if it were searching for free handouts or a treat. Hakyeon laughed softly, petting its nose fondly and scratching behind its ears. “Aren’t you supposed to move in herds or something?” he asked aloud to no one in particular. 

Its large, intelligent eyes blinked at him and it lowered its head again for Hakyeon to stroke its nose. He recalled other demigods treating hippocampi with a good amount of caution but then again, they didn’t number among Poseidon’s descendants. His thoughts fell into a peaceful complacency. For the first time in weeks, he finally felt truly at ease, left alone in his element. Both figuratively and literally. 

The hippocampus’ ears shot up and its eyes widened, snorting at something in the wind past him like it was spooking at something. Hakyeon turned halfway over his shoulder, not expecting to see anything or anyone. 

There was a heavy presence in the air, like a storm before it broke. There stood a man in a space once occupied by nothing. His hair was a deep black, a stark contrast to the white sand. His skin was evenly tanned and his face lined with the evidence of both past laughter and frowns. His eyes, though, they were just like Hakyeon’s: narrow, piercing, with the capacity for fierceness yet they were so very alive. Hakyeon felt simultaneously as if he couldn’t bear to look away yet he was also not worthy to stare directly upon his visage. This man was none other than his…

“Father,” he said and knelt on one knee before him. Hakyeon’s stomach clenched with uncertainty. He had never even met his father in the flesh and gods, well, they didn’t spend too much time with their mortal children. There had to be a purpose to his visit and Hakyeon hoped that he wasn’t in some kind of trouble. 

“Rise,” the god commanded, voice washing over him like water polishing smooth stones. “Is it not unwise for you to be out here alone? I have heard many reports of monsters preying on unsanctioned demigods.” 

Hakyeon stood unsteadily, feeling weirdly off-footed in his father’s presence. To go from having not known him for his entire life then having him appear suddenly on a beach with no precursor warnings, well, he supposed it would be enough to shock nearly anyone. “I can—” he floundered for words, “hold my own.” 

“As I would expect you to,” his father said. The implicit meaning was clear: _Every son of Poseidon had gone on to be a hero, a legend_. Maybe that was why his father had simply never bothered to reach out to him when he was the first son to simply not wish for anything past a normal life. Instead of making him want to rise up to meet his father’s hopes for him, the words felt oddly like they were diminishing him. 

“Of course,” stammered Hakyeon, averting his eyes and retraining his mind to speak more formally to a god from Olympus, “Father, why are you here?” 

Poseidon studied him and without even looking up, he felt like he was pinned there by eyes as deep as the ocean’s depths. “The gods are not meant to meddle directly in the quests of demigods,” he admitted, though Hakyeon could hear in his voice that the said and unsaid rules of Olympus were not enough to stop him from doing anything. “But I have decided to make an exception. For you. I come with a warning.”

Hakyeon raised his head, puzzled, “A warning?” He thought that everything was straightforward enough. Free the god of death, Thanatos, close the Doors of Death. The only thing they really had to look forward to was simply not dying to any errant monsters or the forces of Gaea along the way, but he figured that was self-explanatory. 

“Not about external forces,” Poseidon said, seemingly reading Hakyeon’s mind though he could not be sure just how far the gods’ powers stretched. “I came to tell you that the son of Zeus is not to be trusted.” 

“Taekwoon?” he asked in disbelief, squinting at the god, his notions of self preservation evidently falling to the side. “He’s part of the prophecy, one of the six. And this all started because he went missing in the first place.” 

“No, you went searching for him because of your own personal reasons,” Poseidon corrected, re-assessing his son, “Fate binds him only to the son of Hades. He has barely returned to you and already, he is beginning to become the source of your ruin.” 

That struck a little too close to home. How long had the gods been watching? Or more specifically, just his father. And could he have even possibly known Hakyeon’s true feelings on the matter? But still, strange behavior or not, he still loved Taekwoon and that was an undeniable part of himself. Even admitting that to himself was a scary thought. But it was true, wasn’t it? Why else would he be willing to hand over his priceless Elysium coins for the chance to find Taekwoon again and bring him home. He may be sullen and difficult sometimes but without those traits, he simply wouldn’t be Taekwoon. “What’re you implying?” he asked, voice carefully neutral.

“Stay away from him,” said his father, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. “You believe him only to be dangerous when he was possessed but think logically, Hakyeon. This was the man who killed his best friend in cold blood. He is his father’s son, through and through.” Hakyeon could hear the bitterness seeping into the ebb tide of his voice, “Arrogant, impulsive, and blind to the feelings of others.” 

Hakyeon pressed his lips together and inwardly counted up to ten before he allowed himself to speak again and even then he could hear the anger in his own voice, “What do you truly know of him? You’re a god and so— so far removed from how we think and act. What do you even know about human ideals? How can you understand love and fear and hatred? Even from what little you’ve seen of my life, you know that I care for him deeply, you can’t just— just take an interest in my life all of a sudden just to tell me who I can and can not love. It may be easy for you to simply choose not to care because you’re a god. You have all of eternity waiting for you so you can pick and choose what interests you but I don’t have that luxury of time and neither does Taekwoon.” 

His outburst left him weirdly breathless, like he had been caging in his feelings for longer than he realized and now that the words had left him, he realized that might have been a very big mistake. This wasn’t just a god, his father was one of the trio of the most powerful gods on Olympus. If he so chose, he could smite him right now and Hakyeon would simply cease to exist. “I didn’t mean—” the words tasted ashen in his mouth, “I didn’t mean offense.” He paused, then added for good measure, “Sir.” 

Hakyeon’s most optimistic hope was that his father wouldn’t obliterate him where he stood, but Poseidon instead observed neutrally, “You seem to care very deeply for this— boy.” 

He paused then slowly raised his head, looking at Poseidon with confusion, “I— yes,” he said, in a voice that obviously meant that should have been clear, “He can be— difficult but that doesn’t change anything.” 

Poseidon didn’t say anything, just fixed him with the same assessing look that he himself often utilized on others. A lone seagull called in the distance and the calmed waves washed over the sand, his father looking ever the part of the king of the sea, even when removed from his palace. His expression gave away nothing. He dipped his head and said, “I see.” His father looked almost calculating, “I do not see his merits but perhaps you see something that the gods do not see.” Hakyeon figured that was the closest that he would ever get to a god admitting that in the realm of human emotions, perhaps they weren’t as well versed as they thought. 

Hakyeon supposed that was also the closest he would get to any semblance of acceptance. He knew that he should consider himself grateful that his father decided that he was important enough to speak to at all but instead, he felt only a vague sense of resentment. God or not, he had no place in Hakyeon’s life and to suddenly only care when Hakyeon’s life got interesting was a surefire way to irk him. “He isn’t dangerous,” he restated, though it sounded a little too much like he was trying to convince himself. “Taekwoon doesn’t always— do the right thing or make the right call but that is simply how humans are. He’s never had anything but good intentions, though. There has to be a reason why the prophecy included him.”

“The Fates have been wrong before,” his father pointed out, “They can’t ever dictate what happens in the world. That choice is always up to you.” 

He blinked, his words dying on his tongue. “I— “ He had never considered questioning Fate. He didn’t quite know where Poseidon was going with this because it was simply common knowledge that prophecies dictated every hero’s journey. They were the laws that ruled their lives and even without grand quests and legends, fate was still the driving force behind every life. It ruled who they met, who they fell in love with, the circumstances of their birth, life, and death. To question fate was to question the workings and machinations of the universe. Easy for a god to do. Not so easy for Hakyeon. 

Before he could over think too much about what exactly his father was trying to achieve by even bringing that up, Poseidon said, “Those born of the sea have no reserves, not in love and not in war.” He looked more contemplative now, outlined against the cold winter moon. “I did not come with only a warning,” he finally said, “I came also to provide you with aid, should you want it.”

“How so?” asked Hakyeon cautiously, wondering if the god knew exactly where Thanatos was in Alaska, any weaknesses of the great and fearsome Gaea, hell, they would probably even be grateful for any warnings of particular dangers that would face them further down the road. 

“Your mother’s dagger,” Poseidon said, “Do you still have it?”

That hadn’t been what he was expecting but he obliged regardless, reaching into his pocket and drawing it out of its sheath. Even without the light of the sun, it still gleamed with a godly given glow. In its crystal clear reflection, he saw only himself. _Katropis_ , it was called. _Looking glass_.

“Do you always keep your dagger like that?” asked his father, a hint of a patronizing tone sneaking into his words.

“No,” defended Hakyeon, “I usually have a sheath for it on my belt but I mean— I wasn’t really planning on going out and fighting any monsters before bed.”

His father took it from his hands, studying it. Hakyeon wondered what he saw in its reflection or if it simply appeared blank to him. Poseidon wielded it in his hand like a ceremonial dagger, not a weapon, “This belonged once to Helen of Troy. She used it as her mirror for she was the most beautiful woman of her time. It has probably never seen battle until you came along.” 

“Where was it before mom— my mother had it?” Hakyeon asked. 

“Lost,” Poseidon said simply, holding the dagger with something akin to reverence, “It was a gift from me. To the most beautiful woman of her time.” The god looked lost in his own thoughts for several moments before he spoke again, “The path grows only more dangerous from here on out. I know you were never formally taught how to fight but you will need more than a dagger and your powers to defend yourself.”

Hakyeon looked at him questioningly, quelling his impulse to reach out and simply take his dagger back, “I—” he hesitated, not wanting to offend the god, “I guess but I still think that the dagger is sufficient for now. If anything, Wonsik, can—” 

 

“I am not taking it away,” said Poseidon with a hint of amusement, “I simply thought you would appreciate a bit of an improvement.” 

Hakyeon wasn’t entirely sure what that meant but the more rational part of his mind reminded him that refusing a god’s favor was a pretty surefire way to bring misfortune upon himself. So, he said nothing. Poseidon began to chant in an ancient form of Greek that was lost upon Hakyeon but that Jaehwan and Taekwoon might have been able to understand. The dagger glowed in his hand, blinding white, then as suddenly as the process began, the light disappeared and his dagger went back to looking like the same old dagger that he had had since he was fifteen. His father offered it back to him and he took it back with some apprehension. 

“Look into the reflection of the dagger and search for the sea,” said the god, “There you will find me and my gift to you.” 

Hakyeon looked down into the dagger, at first seeing his only reflection. He stared harder, focusing. He had never had to try and see something on purpose in his dagger, but he concentrated on his memories of the sea. Rolling down the windows of his car to greet the horizon line, the sunny beaches and stormy coasts, the inexplicable feeling of _home_. As if responding to his thoughts alone, the dagger morphed and changed shape within his hand, lengthening into a weapon even longer than a sword, pronged with three tips at the end. “A triton—” he said aloud, staring in wonder at the gilded metal and looking around, “Thank you, Father— Father?” 

Poseidon had disappeared as suddenly as he arrived, leaving him alone on the beach, only phantom footprints left behind as evidence that anyone else was even there beside him. The weight of the triton was hefty in his arms and he never really favored a weapon this large, but when he swung it, it felt weightless through the air, as quick and lethal as a dagger. Katropis certainly wasn’t a gaudy mirror or ornamental dagger anymore, his father had seen to that and he watched with amazement as it shrunk easily in his hand, back to its original form. 

The whole thing felt, well, a little strange. As if it were out of a dream. Hakyeon couldn’t help but feeling a little proud as he pocketed his dagger again. Even though it still stung to be ignored by his father for so long, he was still a son of Poseidon and there must be something in him that could make his father proud. Fate had put him on this path but Hakyeon was prepared To make the most of his opportunity to forge his own story. He was content with letting the universe pick the setting so long as he got to control the plot.

He slipped his hands into his pockets, taking a final moment to simply bask in the moment and enjoy the solitude for himself when a voice interrupted his half second of peace, “Hakyeon.” He tensed despite himself. Taekwoon’s voice was loud but in a uniquely Taekwoon manner, it remained soft in tone and was carried by the wind. 

Hakyeon turned on his heel, facing the source of the voice. He squinted against the overly bright and concentrated light source that was the flashlight on Taekwoon’s phone as he struggled over the sand and pebbles to reach him, obviously not wanting to fuss himself this late at night with getting his clothing dirty. 

“What are you doing out here?” Hakyeon asked when Taekwoon finally reached him.

“I was— sent to look for you. Wonsik was getting worried,” he said, shifting his weight awkwardly.

“I see,” Hakyeon said quietly, “Wonsik was worried for me?”

Taekwoon looked at him carefully and seemed to pick up that his words had suddenly thrown him on some pretty thin ice. “I knew you hadn’t gone far,” Taekwoon said, his breath fogging in the air, “You always liked to take walks when you wanted your time alone.” 

Hakyeon felt a part of himself deflate at that and felt a little silly at even the mere notion that he assumed Taekwoon didn’t care. “Sorry,” he apologized but it felt shallow. They stood apart, facing each other, no intimacy in their stances and it pained Hakyeon to have Taekwoon feel so very far away. “I thought you went to sleep already.” 

Taekwoon shook his head, unstyled dark hair falling into his eyes. The striped sleeves of his sweater ran past his hands and it struck Hakyeon just how, well, soft he looked. To even fathom that just a few minutes ago, the god of the sea himself had been arguing about how dangerous Taekwoon was seemed nearly absurd. Hakyeon wanted to hug him close and indulge in his own clinginess. Before all of this, it wouldn’t have been unusual for him to do so and all he wanted to do was lean against Taekwoon’s sturdy frame and whisper sweet nothings into his ear, but now it felt like he would be overstepping his boundaries and he hated it. 

“We should go back, then,” Hakyeon said finally, suppressing a chill. He should have dressed a little warmer but to be fair, he hadn’t known that he would be out here for so long. “Wouldn’t want to keep them waiting.” 

He began to walk, his footprints light on the damp sand when Taekwoon moved to block his way. “Wait,” Taekwoon said, his hands on Hakyeon’s shoulder and his tone more serious than usual, “I— “ his face twisted in frustration at himself for not knowing what to say, “Hakyeon, I missed you.”

“I’ve been here this entire time,” Hakyeon said plainly, stopping in his tracks and not looking at Taekwoon. But he knew what he meant. They both did. There was so much to say between them that neither of them seemed to know where to begin or how to even reach out to span this gap that had suddenly appeared before they both realized it. Hakyeon looked at how happy Hongbin and Wonsik were, how simple love came to both of them when the others weren’t looking. He even envied Sanghyuk and his newfound pursuit of Jaehwan, the chase of it all exhilarating and carefree. 

Hakyeon had never had a reason to question his relationship with Taekwoon before this, but sometimes he felt like he was looking at a different man altogether, one so haunted by his past that he couldn’t seem to look past it and into the future. 

He felt tired, all of a sudden, and wished Taekwoon hadn’t come out here to intrude upon his thoughts. “What do you want?” he asked out of frustration. “You avoid me at every turn, you rarely speak to me anymore, then you come around and tell me that you miss me. What do you want me to do? I risked my life for you and would do it all again in a heartbeat but you—” Hakyeon made a frustrated noise. “You are absolutely maddening. You speak to even Jaehwan more than you speak to me and as far as I’m aware, he hates you. What do you _want_?” 

Taekwoon’s expression was one of hurt and though it brought Hakyeon no joy to see that, he didn’t feel any need to rectify it either. “I— I know I’ve made things difficult,” he whispered.

“As usual,” retorted Hakyeon under his breath.

“I’m sorry.” 

Hakyeon closed his eyes as if that would get rid of the welling of sadness in his chest. Taekwoon sounded so earnest and it sounded like he had been waiting quite awhile just to say those two words. 

“I know,” he said finally, opening his eyes again to meet Taekwoon’s. “But we can’t keep doing this, can we?” His laughter was bitter on his own tongue. “This isn’t good for either of us.”

Try as he might, Taekwoon couldn’t stop the panic that seeped into his voice when he asked, “What do you mean? Hakyeon, are you—” 

“No,” he said decisively, “I didn’t mean that we should split up. I just meant— Gods, sometimes it would be easier if I did break this off but I won’t. I— I can’t. Because that’s the thing, isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?” Taekwoon asked, his voice low.

“I mean that I know how Jaehwan feels. No matter what bullshit you put me through or what the world puts me through for being with you, I’d still love you,” the way it came out was much bitterer than Hakyeon had expected. Where there was once softness with his words, he felt like he was reaching the end of his rope. Add just a little more tension on one side and Hakyeon felt sure that he was going to break.

Taekwoon made a noise that was close to a pained whimper and he pulled Hakyeon close to him, demanding, “Say it again.”

“What?” Hakyeon said, sounding exasperated, but it was more out of fondness than anything else. He could feel Taekwoon’s heartbeat through his chest and damn it all, he could feel his walls crumbling as quickly as they went up. It seemed that Hakyeon could never properly build up defenses strong enough to keep Taekwoon out. “You want to hear me say it again? But you already know I love you, I love—” 

Taekwoon surged up against him and kissed him like he was starving for it. He felt unduly warm, pressed up against Hakyeon’s front and his hand wrapped around to rest on the small of Hakyeon’s back. He froze for a moment, it had been so long, but Hakyeon had missed it so much, had missed this. They were nearly the same height but Hakyeon had to lean up a little to kiss him back. Taekwoon made a contented little noise, almost purring.

Hakyeon could feel his lips tingle, like just being near Taekwoon electrified him and made his hair stand on end. For how much Taekwoon intimidated the others, he was always so easy for Hakyeon. His hands reached up and interlocked behind Taekwoon’s neck as he rolled his hips forward, just to delight in the way Taekwoon’s movements stuttered and the way he gasped into his mouth.

When Hakyeon finally pulled away, Taekwoon blindly followed the motion, chasing after his lips, and it sent a perverse thrill through Hakyeon’s system, that he could still make Taekwoon fall apart so easily. Hakyeon nipped playfully at Taekwoon’s ear, pressing their fronts together. He pressed his forehead to Taekwoon’s and up close he could feel his staggered, soft breathing. “I’m assuming that this is more along the lines of what you meant when you said that you missed me,” he said softly.

“Yes,” breathed Taekwoon, his hands coming up to rest on the side of Hakyeon’s face reverently, “I missed everything about you so dearly I feared that it would tear me apart. I— I know a lot of things have changed and— and I’m not the same person that you fell in love with.”

“No, you’re not,” Hakyeon agreed, “But you’re still the dearest person to me all the same.”

Taekwoon’s expression was pained, bittersweet, “I do not deserve you.” 

“But I am still here,” countered Hakyeon gently, brushing the stray hair away from Taekwoon’s face, “And you should have grabbed a jacket, you’re not dressed warmly enough at all.” 

“Wasn’t planning on staying out here for very long,” mumbled Taekwoon, but he smiled all the same. “You still dote on me.”

“I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t,” pointed out Hakyeon, pressing a quick kiss to his lips again and knowing, with a warm glow, that Taekwoon was worth all of the trouble because in the end, they would be alright. He hoped. 

— 

Sanghyuk entered his room, not surprised in the slightest to find Jaehwan passed out on the bed, his face still slightly red. He had no discernible reason to try and drink Wonsik under the table and yet, nobody tried to stop either of them. Jaehwan had spent most of the night teasing Wonsik for being a “Three Shot Wonder” but it didn’t seem like Jaehwan was any better himself. 

The light was still on and his blanket was hanging half off the bed, but Jaehwan seemed completely content to sleep in some weirdly uncomfortable positions anyways. 

He sighed softly and wondered just when he had become so fond of Jaehwan. Even his short temper could be oddly endearing and he found himself missing his presence when they weren’t talking. Jaehwan had made a vague promise to stay up with him tonight and play video games, but obviously that went out the window and now Sanghyuk would probably be responsible for making sure he wasn’t too hungover in the morning. 

In the week or so that followed Sanghyuk moving in to Jaehwan’s room, it was almost odd to see the places where their lives blended together in the small space. It was bigger than his dorm room at university, in any case, even if they were sharing a bed. Though, privately, Sanghyuk didn’t really mind. There was something to be said about the intimacy of waking up still tangled in sheets, still carrying Jaehwan’s scent, and even the thought of it made the tip of Sanghyuk’s ears feel warm. 

Still, he could see the places where their personalities clashed. Sanghyuk’s side of the room was neater, all the clothes that he couldn’t fit in the drawers piled neatly on top. Jaehwan’s sweater still lay draped over the back of his desk chair and a pair of socks lay discarded to the side of the bed, completely mismatched in print and pattern. His own laptop was plugged in and Jaehwan’s phone was dead on the nightstand next to him (he should probably plug it in for him so he doesn’t have to listen to him whine and complain in the morning). Their bathroom door was still open and Sanghyuk made himself a mental reminder to remind Jaehwan to stop using his expensive shampoo, he could tell because it was half gone and when he leaned too close to Jaehwan, the scent that lingered was suspiciously familiar. 

He glanced at the clock on the wall. 11:02. Too early for his restless mind to catch any sleep. He tugged his short-sleeved tee off in exchange for something warmer. On the way out, he made sure to turn off the lights, closing the door softly. His lonely mind always sought company lest it fall into the old habits of losing himself in his own thoughts. But Jaehwan and Wonsik were not in any state of consciousness and, well, he really didn’t like bothering Hakyeon because Taekwoon was usually not too far behind. 

Perhaps Hongbin was still awake. 

His hand slid along the cool metal banister as he ascended the spiral staircase. There came the sound of gentle pops and fizzes, tiny bursts of magic from upstairs, the candlelight flicking wavy shadows onto the wall. “Can I come up?” he called. 

Hongbin peered over, an expression of mild surprise on his face, and seemed to contemplate it before eventually shrugging to which Sanghyuk took as a ‘yes.’ 

He entered Hongbin’s unofficially named magical laboratory and was hit by the cloying scent of herb smoke. Sanghyuk squinted against it all and coughed, trying to wave it away. Hongbin’s mischievous smile contained no traces of sympathy, “There’s a reason I don’t usually have people up here,” he said, “It’s rare to see you not with Jaehwan nowadays.”

Sanghyuk’s lungs settled back into a state of relative equilibrium before he could speak again, his throat slightly hoarse, “Yeah, don’t know why I hang around him.I think he does me more harm than good.” 

Hongbin chuckled at that, pouring a glowing blue liquid into a clear, unlabeled container, “Seems to me, though, that you two have been awfully close.” 

Sanghyuk heard the insinuation in his words and chose to ignore it instead, “He’s alright,” he said in a flat tone, leaning against a desk, “I mean, we talk but we don’t— _talk_ , really. I think your position as his best friend remains pretty safe.”

That was, at least, half true. He wasn’t sure how much of it was Jaehwan’s natural talkativeness and how much of it was that they simply got along, but their conversations often lasted deep into the night, long and winding and traveling down a myriad of different paths. Sometimes they would talk of their differing fighting techniques, though that often got quickly frustrating because Jaehwan always insisted that he was right. They would talk of their favorite food and drink, best places to get dessert, music, their travels, whether a certain all you can eat korean barbeque was really worth the money. Sometimes Sanghyuk would ask about Jaehwan’s past lives and he always seemed happy so share his memories and stories that spanned the flight of imagination. He would speak of nearly everything except for his time with Taekwoon. Sanghyuk could sense that it was a topic that both of them avoided at all costs and every time he brought it up, Jaehwan would just talk circles around him and then change the subject entirely.

“I see,” said Hongbin, putting a stopper in the container and shelving it along with the rest. Leaves of an unidentified type still burned, uncontrolled, in his scrying bowl but Hongbin didn’t seem too bothered by it. Sanghyuk had a brief, out of body thought that if Hongbin wanted to simply kick back and decide to start smoking weed up here, all of them would be none the wiser. They would just assume he was actually working on some kind of voodoo magic potion. “The Jaehwan I know will give away all of his secrets without a second thought, though. Well, almost all of them.” He busied himself with flipping through a dusty tome. “And for you, I’m sure he would tell you anything.”

“Err— “ he gave him a bemused look, “Why me in particular?”

Hongbin looked up from the dried out pages to give Sanghyuk a once over and sighed, sounding all too world weary. “I have _seen_ you and I know Jaehwan’s type.” 

Only pure masochism prompted him to inquire further, “Which is?” 

“Do you really need to know?” asked Hongbin, sounding almost pained. 

“I mean—” 

“Tall, wide shoulders, bossy, assertive, preferably looks like they’re strong enough to pin him up and fuck him against a wall,” Hongbin said, sounding like he was reading off a checklist.

Sanghyuk spluttered, his face undoubtedly turning beet red and he regretted ever asking because just the sheer mental image of that send blood rushing south a little too quickly. “Right,” he said, trying to keep his voice level, “Well, that’s good to know I suppose. I mean, I’m not blind but— I’m sure he just finds me…” He wanted to find a way to say this that didn’t sound silly but couldn’t quite manage it. “I don’t know, I think he just finds me physically attractive. I’d like to think that there could be something between us but—” 

“But I haven’t seen Jaehwan this happy in a very, very long time. Even with the world literally self destructing, at the end of the day, he still finds time to spend with you. Which is, well, rare. He likes you a lot, Sanghyuk,” he said, in a simple matter-of-fact way. 

Sanghyuk had— had never thought of it like that. He didn’t feel like he quite knew what to do with this information, like he held Jaehwan’s heart in his hands and he hadn’t even realized it. He shied away from that thought for now. “I mean, I guess, he has told me pretty much everything I’ve asked. He just never talks about his whole thing with Taekwoon.”

“Ah,” said Hongbin, turning to face him finally with undivided attention, “Why do you want to know?” 

“Because I don’t want Taekwoon to ruin him again.” 

Sanghyuk blurted out the words before he could even think too hard about them. But it was true, wasn’t it? He hadn’t even thought it to be possible that he would ever feel any semblance of protectiveness over Jaehwan, considering that he was much more powerful than Sanghyuk was. He knew, rationally, the chances of Taekwoon physically harming Jaehwan again were on the lower side, but he seemed to inflict more emotional damage than he realized. Hongbin stared at him for a beat too long to be comfortable, perhaps trying to judge if he was actually sincere. 

Hongbin’s words were slow and weighted, “I don’t know the whole story myself.” 

“Jaehwan never told you?” 

“No, we’ve talked about it,” said Hongbin, walking over to his scrying bowl, its inlaid designs glowing when he picked it up, “But I don’t know how much of what he said was true. He is, obviously, quite biased.” 

“So, there’s more to the story,” he guessed. 

Hongbin hesitated, fingers tightening around the bowl momentarily, “Yes.” He motioned for Sanghyuk to come join him and snapped his fingers, drawing up a chair at the table. “When I first met Jaehwan, I didn’t trust him. I think you can relate to me on that matter. He was very— not only because of his heritage but he was also never a good liar. So I did my own research.”

“Meaning?”

“There are very few children of Hecate in the world but the ones that do exist...well, we are very well connected. We have archives spanning all of history. Jaehwan and Taekwoon were relatively easy to track because of how prominent they were in history so I found letters, accounts, relics. With enough power in those artifacts, I was able to recreate part of the story, to see their memories lost in the Fade as if I were there,” said Hongbin, pouring a thick, heavy liquid into the bowl. It was as black as raven feathers with the noxious scent of gasoline. As Sanghyuk sat down, he fought not to wrinkle his nose against it. “Memories don’t lie so I figured this was as close to the truth as I would get.” 

“I’m assuming that I shouldn’t tell Jaehwan about this?” 

“As far as he’s concerned, I only know what he has told me,” said Hongbin, an edge of warning in his voice. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I— suppose,” he hadn’t expected to actually be privy to the workings of the scrying bowl, ”Wait, Hongbin, why are you trusting me with this?”

Hongbin’s eyes were unreadable, thousands of answers in his head. “Because, I think, with the way things are going, you deserve to know.”

He gazed into the scrying bowl and let his mind go blank. Hongbin muttered an enchantment under his breath and soon, his vision was swimming in a muggy heat wave daze. He couldn’t think of anything, he could just _feel_. Anger, outrage, jealousy, apathy, love, regret, sorrow, _empty_.

—

Sanghyuk opened his eyes and found himself a very long way from the present day and the Odyssey.

It was like he was watching a film that surrounded him and pulled him along with it. He wasn’t quite there but he wasn’t completely removed, either. 

A horse snorted, its hooves moving in rhythmic two beat over the cobblestone. He looked up. It was Jaehwan, dressed in lightweight armor and with a seriousness that hardened his handsome face. The horns sounded, bouncing off of the gleaming white walls, washed out in the bright Greek summer. Below them, the sea, tropical and true. The coast was beautiful and he wished that he had the time to break away and explore the marketplace that he could see just beyond the cliffside, or the courtyard below with a statue that he could have sworn he saw on a museum trip. He was in a slice of history itself and it nearly drove him mad to be confined to such a small space.

But then attendants streamed out of the main courtyard and Jaehwan swung his leg over his mount, landing gracefully on the ground and handing the horse’s reins off to the nearest servant boy, giving him what sounded like specific instructions to give his horse water after removing its tack. Then, he realized, with a start that they were speaking in Greek, a language that he certainly didn’t understand but though the words sounded foreign to his ears, his mind translated it with ease.

Strange, indeed. 

A young woman came out through the open doors of the main palace of Ilios, the white fabric of her dress a seamless continuation of the land around her. She had the cold, imperious face of someone who used very few words to attain her goals, no matter the cost. In short, her expression reminded him very much of Taekwoon. The gold belt around her waist and the jewels in her hair denoted her rank and she came to greet Jaehwan with a gracious hug. Then, she leaned up and pressed a long, lingering kiss to his lips and Jaehwan looked to melt into it. 

There was an ugly, deep seated feeling of jealousy and discontent in his chest. It was silly, Jaehwan wasn’t even his and this— this was just a memory. He forced himself to look beyond it. Of course, he had to have taken other lovers beside Taekwoon. He just hadn’t even anticipated it to bother him at all.

He forced himself to look past it because Jaehwan looked so, simply, well, happy. It reminded him of the way that Jaehwan looked at him sometimes, with a smile that took up half of his face, his eyes crinkling up. Sanghyuk made a mental note that styling his hair out of his face flattered Jaehwan indeed. The woman leaned in and whispered something in his ear and he could see the hint of Jaehwan’s smirk starting on his face. But then, in a louder voice this time, “My father needs to speak with you. It’s about your old friend, Taekwoon.”

Jaehwan looked a little troubled by this, a mixture of guilt and confusion on his face. “We’re still friends, though,” he said, sounding young and unconvinced but he shook his head briefly, “Right. I’ll— I’ll head up right now. And you’ll wait for me later?”

“You know I always will,” she replied smoothly, turning to walk away when Jaehwan surprised her by catching her hand in his and bringing it up to his lips, kissing her knuckles. She laughed, softly, in surprise, perhaps, a flash of pearly white teeth. “Go on, then. You don’t want to keep him waiting.” 

He watched her go with fondness in his eyes. When she was gone, he thanked the servant boy who had taken care of his horse, slipping him a coin or two in payment. Then he was ascending the stairs into the open palace and Sanghyuk was following him past great corinthian columns and lovingly handcrafted sculptures. 

Jaehwan moved past the grand hall and the guest quarters, back, back, into a simple and intimate dining room, set for a family meal, not for entertaining guests. The king’s beetle black eyes lit up at Jaehwan’s arrival. He dismissed his attendants and with a booming laugh of a gusty, “Ha, ha, ha! Look who’s back safe and sound. Thought that sphinx might have been a little too much for you but I should have known better than to doubt the prowess of the Son of Hades himself.” 

Jaehwan responded with a shy smile, but it was clear that he preened under the praise, though he tried to hide it as he sat down across from the king. “It was a contract like any other.” 

“Your Taekwoon has no complaints about our alliance, though it is strictly professional?”

His smile faltered, “Ah,” he said delicately, “He does not know. We are still friends, though, we haven’t spoken in...some time. Your daughter—” 

The king waved it away with a good-natured smile, “I know, I know. But she is not the topic of discussion for today. I would think that your allegiance lies with Taekwoon’s kingdom. Did they not raise you, train you?” 

Sanghyuk could feel the thinly veiled accusation, hidden in between the lines, despite his genial smile, but Jaehwan was oblivious. He shrugged, “Taekwoon and I aren’t supposed to be— bound by politics. We’re supposed to take contracts, defeat monsters, not become involved in the wars of men. I am still a neutral party so despite whatever tensions exist between your kingdom and his father’s. Though,” he paused, frowning a little, “I’ve heard that Taekwoon has not left his father’s kingdom in nearly a year. Well, not his father as the king is technically his adopted father but the birthright still belongs to him because his mother is still of noble blood. But, still.” 

“He is next in line for the throne,” the king said, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders, “Hero or not, it’s still expected for him to uphold his duty. A drink, then?” 

Jaehwan looked slightly torn between not wanting to offend his host and not particularly wanting to drink, but he ended up giving in, offering his goblet to the servant who poured a good amount of wine into it. “I always forget,” he said, staring down at the drink, “That he has a kingdom to belong to. To rule. It is odd, thinking of my best friend as king.”

“A king of a bastardized notion of a kingdom. It is, at its heart, only a collection of barbarians that insist on raiding our border farms and burning through our trade routes, but, yes, I suppose it is still technically a kingdom,” he said with a tight smile.

Jaehwan frowned at that.

“Ha, ha, ha! I was just joking,” the king said, though Jaehwan still looked unsure. “He is not king, yet, though. Shouldn’t you two be out there still having adventures together? Why, when I was a young lad, my companion and I took down a minotaur twice the height of the grand hall, can you believe it?” 

“I can indeed,” Jaehwan said in a voice that clearly sounded like no, he indeed could not believe. Though that didn’t seem to matter much as the alcohol kept flowing. “I suppose he has returned because of his mother.”

“His mother?” the king asked, leaning forward with interest, though Sanghyuk did not like tantalized look of greed on his face. “Why, I don’t believe that I’ve ever seen her in public.” 

“Because you haven’t,” Jaehwan said simply, “Even when I was a child, she has always been very ill.” Sanghyuk could tell that there was much more to the story than that, though he seemed reluctant to say anymore. Jaehwan chewed on his lower lip, lost in thought. To both his and the king’s surprise, Jaehwan continued, “The old man loves her more than anything. Taekwoon, too. If either of them ever lost her, I think they would both die of heartbreak.” His laughter was bitter. “It would be Fate’s most cruel hand to take her away from them.” 

The look on the king’s face was that of a man who had hit the jackpot. Sanghyuk felt a deep sense of foreboding in his heart and wondered if Jaehwan had even realized that, neutral party or not, he had just handed over a piece of information to the one person in the palace that had the power to do something terrible with it. Greed, spite, jealousy. All of the things a bitter old king would carry with him to bed, overlooking the land of his neighbor’s. Jaehwan had just inadvertently tangled himself in a spider web of political dealings and had no means of escape. Not that he was aware of this. Sanghyuk privately wondered how Jaehwan functioned at all in the world when he was so blindly trusting because he played even further into the casual camaraderie of a clear chess master. Jaehwan was only a pawn on the board. 

“You seem to still care very deeply for your Taekwoon,” said the king, tampering down the victory on his visage. 

Jaehwan tensed, coiled tight as a spring. In his eyes raged a storm of anger and sadness but eventually, the sadness won out and it betrayed years of things going not quite right. “I love him, I do, he is—” he hesitated, glancing away but the wine had loosened his tongue and he had a lot on his chest. “He is everything to me. But he is distant and cold and too prideful. I got tired of being treated as less of his friend and more of his— I don’t know, but not quite his equal. We talked less, we fought more. We quarreled over nearly everything and I simply grew exhausted just being around him. We split up, then. I’ve been following contracts and he chose to lock himself away in a castle but— well, things have never been quite the same since then but we’re— we’re still friends.” 

There was hope there, fragile as a sparrow in one’s hands. But it was there. Sanghyuk wondered how long ago this was before their disagreements eventually blew up into a fight so disastrous that it ended with one of them dead. 

The king frowned a sympathetic frown and clapped Jaehwan on the shoulder, “Ah, well, young men have been like this for as long as humanity has been around.”

Jaehwan looked vaguely startled at the sudden hand resting on him, but he visibly forced himself to relax, “Of course.” 

“You will learn to be a man and put this whole Taekwoon business behind you, hm? You are a growing power in your own right!” He said with another gusty clap to Jaehwan’s shoulder, “Now, come, let us walk down to the armory. I promised to pay you handsomely for your efforts with the sphinx, did I not?” 

The memory faded away to Hongbin in Elysium Funeral Services, brushing the dust off a rusted bronze shield, much of its original color lost to time. Every memory has its roots in the physical world, Sanghyuk recalled as he watched this projection of Hongbin set down the shield and pick up a nearby piece of white cloth, bloodied, but preserved presumably through magic, as was everything that surrounded him in the room. As soon as Hongbin’s hand touched it, his consciousness spiraled back, back— 

A woman’s shriek pierced the air, but the horrible sound simply joined the overall commotion throughout the castle. Armor and spears clanged against each other as the castle prepared for battle. Men shouted in panic baritone over the din to try to get to their family. The servants and the women hastened to the back of the castle, a torrent of desperation to escape before they were besieged. And Taekwoon appeared, his height looming above them all, breaking through the crowd to go upstream and up the stairs through the royal bedrooms. 

He moved with the jerkiness of someone who was trying very, very hard not to panic and just barely succeeding in masking it. The people jostled each other even more when they realized who had just pushed past them.

“The prince— “

“The Son of Zeus will save us—” 

“Gods, why have they taken our queen?”

The stone steps upward were winding and narrow, leading far away from the rest of the castle. It lead up to the top, a tower that yearned for the sky and Olympus itself. Taekwoon ignored the crowds of people and broke through the sanctuary of the grand bedroom. It was oddly quiet up here, with only the whistle of wind for company. 

The exquisite marble floor spanned before him. Taekwoon’s heart skid to a halt at the sight he found waiting for him. 

“Mother,” he gasped like someone had just stolen the breath from his lungs. 

On the ground lay a woman in white, in a pool of her own blood. The crimson splattered the curtains, blowing lightly through the shattered window, glass shards covering the ground. Taekwoon made a noise like a wounded animal, rushing to her side and dropping to the ground, regardless of the debris that was still sharp enough to snag on his clothing. 

He cradled her limp body in his arms, her stony face blank of expression and thoroughly devoid of life. Her brown hair cascaded over Taekwoon’s arm and though Sanghyuk couldn’t see Taekwoon’s face, his shoulders shook, his breaths coming in quick and uncontrolled gasps. 

“Mother,” he moaned, through his sobs, tears chasing each other down his face. Taekwoon shook her gently, as if he could wake her from her eternal sleep. But she was already gone, long before he could do anything about it. Her dainty hand hung to the side, drops of blood on her pale skin like a rose in winter. 

His mouth opened and closed with no sound for there were no more words for someone who was dealing with an unthinkable reality. Taekwoon held her body close, his piteous cries muffled. He was alone in his grief and didn’t care for restraint. Taekwoon whispered something to her corpse in Ancient Greek and Sanghyuk could recognize some of the words he picked up from his own studies. _Protect. I’m sorry. Love_. 

Sanghyuk didn’t want to watch this anymore. He wanted to leave Taekwoon alone in his grief, even though he was watching the memory play out from the future. He felt like he was intruding on something much too private considering the fact that he didn’t like Taekwoon very much and barely knew him.

Hundreds of years had passed since the woman had died but Sanghyuk still took a moment to send up a silent prayer to the gods. He didn’t know her but he still believed that every soul deserved his respect and attention if only for a moment. 

The curtains rustled against each other, a forceful gale sweeping through the room and there stood a god where there was previously only air. Taekwoon didn’t lift his head, slumped over in defeat, his eyes shut tightly. Sanghyuk had a feeling that Taekwoon cared not if the person who entered the room was there to assassinate him as well. 

“Taekwoon,” his voice was thunder rolling across the plains. When Taekwoon didn’t respond, he strode over (because he was the King of Olympus and therefore was certainly above simply walking), and put his arm on his shoulder.

Taekwoon simply curled in further in on himself, wanting solitude and being denied it. He must have known who it was, by touch alone, and refrained from any snap remarks. “Father,” he said, his voice shaky, “Did you know this was going to happen?”

“Yes,” said Zeus, losing nothing with honesty.

Taekwoon made a noise that could best be described as a choked scoff. “Then why—?” He plead, “Why didn’t you do anything? You loved her once, did you not? Human or not, this, this—” 

“This will pass,” said the god but not unkindly. Though his expression was composed, Sanghyuk could see what Taekwoon could not. There was a storm in the god’s eyes and he shuddered to think of who would be on the receiving end of his wrath.

Taekwoon’s laughter was bitter and it sent chills down Sanghyuk’s spine. It was the non-amusement of a man pushed past his breaking point without warning. “It will pass for you because you are a god. She was simply a fleeting part of your life but this was— was my mother. She has been here for _all_ of my life.” 

With the words out, the truth of the situation finally seemed to dawn on Taekwoon. That she had been there for all of his life, but no more was that to be. She had sometimes been far apart but a trip home would always resolve the distance between them. And now she was truly gone. Taekwoon shut his eyes tightly against the onslaught of fresh tears that threatened to overwhelm him, biting down unnecessarily hard on his lower lip. “Please, leave me be,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Zeus stood silent in the space, neither soft enough in his presence to be human nor so overwhelming in power to be a god. Then, he said, “You will bury her on the hill under the olive tree, will you not? That was her—” 

“Favorite spot, I know,” Taekwoon just sounded tired now, “We used to watch the boats go by.” 

The god stared down at her body, lost in contemplation. His face was carefully blank and he lingered for a moment longer. Sanghyuk wondered at what could be going through his mind as he took in the sight of his broken son over the mangled body of a previous dalliance. But could a god even come to truly care about a human when their lives were so fleeting?

He took a step toward the window, clearly ready to leave and afford Taekwoon his time alone but he paused, something still tying his conscience there. “You are a son of mine, through and through. I trust that you will seek revenge.” It wasn’t an order. It was more of a statement of fact.

This shook Taekwoon out of his grief for just a moment, his eyes hardening with the cold blooded intent to kill, “Yes.” 

“Then look to the south, to the kingdom of Ilios. My brother has a son, as well. One that you might now very well consider a traitor,” Zeus said, his cadence and tone betraying nothing, “The king of Ilios wishes to start a war and this was his first step. Do as you see fit.” 

Disbelief flickered across his face, “Your brother— no. Jaehwan would never consort with Ilios, his allegiance lies with us.” But Zeus said nothing to either confirm or deny his words. He simply vanished with the wind, leaving a frustrating and empty space where he could have provided more guidance or comfort but simply chose not to. Taekwoon exhaled slowly, willing the room to please stop spinning. Through the pain was anger and Taekwoon latched on because he would rather feel anything other than the mind numbing sorrow that wrenched his heart and soul dry. Right then, anger felt dangerously close to hope because it gave him purpose. 

He kissed his mother’s cold forehead with tenderness then looked outward through the window. The south winds called and beckoned him beyond the plains and over the bluff, away from the chaos ringing through the castle. They could search all they want for the assassin within its walls but Taekwoon already had a lead.

Sanghyuk watched as Taekwoon’s hand tightened around a piece of his mother’s white and bloodied dress and knew, with the sinking feeling of retrospect, that Taekwoon was going to Ilios. 

He was following the story of Taekwoon now, though his story and that of Jaehwan’s were so closely intertwined that following one thread would lead to the other. Sanghyuk felt a brief sense of deja vu, watching Taekwoon gallop his horse hard down the winding country roads. The bay panted heavily, unable to catch his breath as Taekwoon urged it even faster, hooves striking down at a breakneck pace. 

They tried to stop him at the gates. They knew he was coming. Taekwoon cut them down then took their torches and set the whole structure ablaze. Then he kicked his horse on and rode through that too. 

The bells tolled and slowly, the city began to awake from its slumber. Torches blinked their bleary eyes before their owners began to realize that they were under attack. By a one man army. Ilios was more of a kingdom built on opulence, white stone, and seashells than a fortress of a war. This was becoming more painfully obvious as there was a lack of any real armed resistance to Taekwoon and his rage.

The fire burned in the background, consuming the meager defenses they did possess and crackling through the outskirts of wooden houses and temples. The bells clanged against each other, a cacophony of bronze against bronze, warning against a threat that was already upon them. 

Screams followed his path through the city and it was clear that Taekwoon was carving a path of destruction. Fresh blood still dripped from his bronze sword. He killed with the efficiency of a butcher. The faces that stood in his way became little more than obstacles instead of people with lives, with hopes and fears. Behind him lay a trail of bodies, unarmored, civilians, women, children— 

Guards shouted as they mobilized from the palace, a woman’s shriek pierced the air as she discovered her husband dead on cobblestone. A spear flew, missing Taekwoon by barely an inch. The guards, for all of their flashy armor and weapons, seemed strangely reluctant to wage a direct attack on the son of Zeus. Taekwoon’s horse seemed close to giving out and he was running on reserves as they charged up the path to the palace. Archers nocked their arrows and fired but he was moving too fast to even give a second thought to the arrows. Or so Sanghyuk thought. Lightning flashed on the battlements mere seconds later, honing in on the archers there. The air filled with the scent of charred flesh.

Thunder rolled from up above, following the enraged demigod. Anyone who dared to try to block his progress was simply cut down as Taekwoon galloped past, cleaving through flesh and sinew. 

He rode up the winding path to the palace, leaving behind dust and more bodies. A guard’s freshly severed head began to roll grotesquely down back to the city. Taekwoon didn’t spare it a second glance.

The towering gates of the palace were locked and bolted shut. It seemed that the best of the guard was sent to simply try and slow Taekwoon down because by the time Taekwoon’s conjured lightning broke through the palace’s gate and crested the summit of the hill, there was only one person waiting there to meet him in the empty courtyard. 

Taekwoon swung off of his horse and with an unnatural swiftness, he struck Jaehwan down and pressed a knife to his pale throat. “You fucking traitor,” he snarled, knife digging into his previously unmarred skin. Jaehwan hadn’t expected for a blow that hard and struggled reflexively against Taekwoon’s hold. The knife cut into his neck. He was bleeding.

Jaehwan swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing as he stopped squirming and glared right back at Taekwoon. 

Taekwoon’s anger charged the air between them with heavy tension. Eventually, he decided that he had enough of being on the ground because he disappeared and re-materialized from the shadow nearby, but with no weapon. Jaehwan tried to conceal the obvious fear in his eyes by instead making a show of brushing himself off, a front of fearlessness. He tried for a calming tone and just barely missed, “Taekwoon, I I— I heard what happened and I’m sorry,” his expression was pained, “You know that I know how much she meant to you. But you can’t just— just take your anger out on all these civilians. They are innocent and you very well know it. Do not treat them as if they are disposable—” 

“Don’t,” Taekwoon snapped, fury rolling off of him in waves, “Don’t even pretend that you actually care about the lives of these people. I _know_ you.” The force of his anger in his accusatory tone made Jaehwan flinch. He sneered, “Do not lie. You only want to absolve yourself of your own guilt. You are not the person to lecture me about my morals” 

Jaehwan grimaced and Sanghyuk could see that Taekwoon had hit a soft spot. But he didn’t deny his words. Maybe he already knew that he couldn’t get away with lying to Taekwoon, of all people. “What, exactly, am I guilty of?” His voice had dropped lower than Sanghyuk had ever heard it, all the way down to a rasp. 

“You defected, went to Ilios. You claimed that you did not need me anymore and struck off on your own after we fought. I would not have cared less had you handed over information to my family’s worst enemy,” Taekwoon said, advancing slowly, “You didn’t even think about it, did you? Two years apart and you haven’t changed at all. Naive, foolish, never being able to see past the mask that people put on for you. Because poor little Jaehwan would never think that a political move to take my kingdom would be worth more than my mother’s life.”

Jaehwan scowled and he could see his muscles tensing, but he held his ground, “I was free to work with whoever I wish. There was nothing binding me to you or your family and you know it but you refuse to believe it because of your stupid— fucking— pride.” He grit the words out, “Fine, blame me for being ignorant. Blame the king of Ilios for what he did. But you can’t just— level a kingdom to the ground because you’re angry. You _know_ that this will be how they remember you, Taekwoon. They won’t remember you for all of the good you did in the world and they won’t remember you as—” Jaehwan froze, his eyes widening a fraction like he knew he was about to give something fundamentally important away. But then he redirected himself, his voice softer and a little sadder, “They’ll just remember you as a monster, a murderer. Is that really what you want to leave behind, Taek?” 

Maybe Jaehwan was just starting to realize that Taekwoon was simply too far gone in his anger and grief to stand down and at this point, he was just trying to minimize the damage by trying to placate him. 

Taekwoon’s laugh started off as a quiet chuckle then slowly grew manic. Jaehwan’s face blanched at the sound. Taekwoon loomed over Jaehwan, his anger making him appear even taller than he already was but of course, Jaehwan was playing to his own stubbornness and stood his ground, refusing to be cowed. 

“Oh, Jaehwan,” his already rare smile was bone chillingly sadistic, “My life, my legacy as a hero means nothing now. Did you never realize? I lived for my kingdom, my mother and every step of the way, you have been the one holding me back. I could have prospered on my own and made a name for myself. But you were my friend, my brother, and today I have learned that it all meant nothing to you. How many years has it been? You should know. Anyone that stands in my way doesn’t last very long. The king will pay, his people will pay, and you are either with me or against me.”

For the first time, Jaehwan hesitated. 

It would be so easy to stand down, to give in to what he knew and stand by Taekwoon’s side. 

But there were more lives at stake than his own. Political allegiance didn’t matter as much when Jaehwan refused to be responsible for simply allowing an entire kingdom to fall. It looked to be that Jaehwan’s moral compass won out over the love he held for Taekwoon. 

Or maybe this was because he still loved Taekwoon enough to try to stop him from destroying himself.

“No,” he said quietly, but Sanghyuk felt the impact of that word as if he had shouted it, “The royal family has already escaped. The only person you’ll have to go through is me.” 

Something in Taekwoon’s eyes flickered but it was gone so quickly that Sanghyuk was sure that he imagined it. Taekwoon drew his sword, his face hardened. “Then draw, Jaehwan.” 

The scene spun out of focus and Sanghyuk was thrown without warning back into the present day. The room spun upside down and rightside up and Sanghyuk groaned, burying his head into his hands. 

Coming out of the scrying bowl felt like waking up with the world’s worst hangover. He shut his eyes against the searing headache that threatened to split his skull open from inside out. He was vaguely aware of Hongbin’s soothing hand on his shoulder, but he really just wanted to stop feeling like he was going to be sick in a moment’s notice. 

“Nrgh,” Sanghyuk made quite the unintelligible noise as he sat up slowly, “Why do I feel so terrible?” 

Hongbin at least looked a little apologetic, “I, uh, forgot that you were new to the whole scrying bowl experience. It should go away in a second.” 

Sanghyuk flipped him off but at least Hongbin was right and he was starting to feel slightly better as the minutes ticked by. Finally, he felt well enough to hold a conversation without keeling over so he supposed that was a pretty significant improvement. “So,” he said slowly, “I guess I shouldn’t have been so quick to trust Jaehwan.” 

It was a bit ironic to realize that he had been right in the beginning. Jaehwan wasn’t necessarily a liar but he had been omitting large parts of the story to put himself firmly in the right. Hongbin wasn’t quickly jumping to his friend’s defense nor was he completely validating Sanghyuk, “I think that whatever you choose to believe of him, you’d be right to an extent. Jaehwan hates the parts of Taekwoon that he sees in himself. I don’t even think that Jaehwan realizes that he’s too prideful to admit that he went wrong, too. You...didn’t trust him at first, and it went beyond him just being the Son of Hades.” 

Sanghyuk hesitated. They were just rumors among demigods, or at least that’s what he told himself now. But he figured that he had no reason to lie to Hongbin. “I heard that he was ruthless, that he was a murderer and— if you crossed him, he would probably go out of his way to kill you and that it was impossible to catch him.” 

It was a little unfair to so easily attach the stereotypes of his heritage to Jaehwan but to be fair, his half brothers and sisters weren’t exactly known as champions of world peace. 

Comparatively, charges of murder weren’t so bad. Hongbin rolled his shoulders, looking pensive, “He sort of— broke down after the whole Taekwoon thing. He told me about it. A little. He sort of fell to the sidelines and instead of adventuring and killing monsters, he turned his job into something a bit darker. He started killing for money, he lost a lot of his empathy, hell, he was hooked on opium for awhile but he’s changed a lot since then, I think. Still, he’s definitely not...he’s not perfect.” 

It sounded almost like Hongbin was trying to warn him off. But Sanghyuk knew all this already. He could see it in Jaehwan’s sharp temper and sometimes calloused reactions. Yet he could still also see the Jaehwan that was young and unafraid, with dreams of changing the world for good. The Jaehwan that just wanted to be remembered. 

He wasn’t in love with Jaehwan. He really wasn’t. But it scared him to realize that he could be well on his way to getting there. Or maybe he had already fallen and hadn’t even realized it yet.

Coming out of the scrying bowl, it felt like there was just too much information to digest. There was no way of simplifying the turmoil that drove Jaehwan and Taekwoon to a breaking point but Sanghyuk was starting to get the feeling that it was the driving force behind it all. The ballad of the twin souls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -There might be a _slight_ delay for the next chapter...mostly because the chapters keep getting longer and I am a very slow writer. I apologize for not being able to update more frequently cries  
>  -Hypothetically I do have gratuitous Neo smut in the vault that doesn't really fit into the fic proper would you guys want me to post it anyways as a side story. Hypothetically.  
> -As always, I super duper appreciate any comments and kudos!  
> -Leave me anon hate on [twitter](twitter.com/jaehwandred) and [tumblr](chanstraeus.tumblr.com)


	10. Chapter 10

“There’s a sword in your hand for a reason, Sanghyuk, parry with it!” Jaehwan commanded as they circled each other in the clearing beside the parked Odyssey. The sun rose slowly in the east, illuminating the morning clouds. It had been Jaehwan’s suggestion to get out and train before they set out on the road again, but they had spent most of the morning dicking around in the kitchen instead.

(Jaehwan privately hadn’t minded when Sanghyuk leaned in close and used his thumb to wipe the powdered sugar off the corner of his lips, though.) 

Sanghyuk, the epitome of maturity, stuck his tongue out at him in retaliation and simply brandished his plain steel sword in a great show of fancy movements that had no particular relevance to the exercise at hand. Jaehwan could only pretend to be annoyed at him for so long before he ended up laughing too. Sanghyuk rolled his eyes, far too cocky for someone who was absolutely useless at this. 

“One day I won’t be there when you’re in trouble and then we’ll see who’s laughing,” Jaehwan huffed, returning to their original starting positions.

Sanghyuk cocked his head slightly, “Oh yes, I forgot that I needed the mighty Lee Jaehwan to protect me from any and all danger.”

“You can’t just shoot an arrow at everything that tries to kill you!”

Sanghyuk looked even more unimpressed now, “That’s literally what I’ve been doing this entire time.” 

“But what if they get through your defenses?” Jaehwan countered.

He still looked much too unconcerned about the topic of hand, considering the levels of danger that they all usually found themselves in. “That’s kind of the point of a ranged attack, Jaehwan. You know, you kill them before they can kill you.” 

Jaehwan sighed, the sound exhaustingly weary. 

It wasn’t that he thought that Sanghyuk was incompetent in battle. In fact, he thought just the opposite. Sanghyuk was a valuable fighter, with a keen and analytical mind perfectly suited to that of an archer with a full view of the field. It also helped, of course, that his accuracy was ridiculous. Jaehwan had rarely ever seen him miss a shot, but then he thought back to the first time they fought together. The Minotaur wasn’t able to be vanquished with just one arrow, or even a dozen, and the Nemean lion would have made rather quick work of him had Taekwoon not been there. 

Jaehwan worried for all of his friends, of course, but, well, the thought of Sanghyuk, dead on the ground, blank eyes staring up— He banished the thought. The mere idea of losing Sanghyuk scared him more than he ever thought it would. Which was rather odd because Jaehwan considered himself as someone who had a relatively good sense of control over his own emotions. He wasn’t ever going to pretend that he was immune to love or caring for others, but he had always been guarded, overly cautious. He supposed it could be simply attributed to his many lifetimes. It was hard to define things like love when in every lifetime, he found a different version of it or sometimes he never found it all. 

He vaguely wondered, then, where Sanghyuk would fit into his many years. He never quite knew what to do in situations like this. Sanghyuk burst into his life one moment and the next, he had stolen Jaehwan’s heart and simply refused to give it back. Oh, this was maddening. 

Sanghyuk’s mischievous expression shifted into something more begrudgingly serious. “You take everything too seriously,” he chastised, but there was no heat in his voice. If anything, his tone was fond, almost like he was about to call Jaehwan ‘cute’ for it. “Fine, let’s go again but I still think we should just go back and get more food.”

“You just ate!” Jaehwan said, shaking his head and picking up his own sword again and turning to face Sanghyuk. 

Sanghyuk still looked far too relaxed, even as he sized Jaehwan up. 

Which is why he didn’t expect Sanghyuk to swing first, taking advantage of Jaehwan’s lowered guard to press an attack. Jaehwan was barely quick enough to react, ducking out of the way and side stepping neatly to the side, the momentum of Sanghyuk’s sword swing unbalancing him, but Jaehwan was pleased to see that Sanghyuk regained his footing quickly enough to turn on Jaehwan again. 

“Is this better?” Sanghyuk taunted, a boyish gleam in his eyes. 

Jaehwan laughed, meeting his blow, “And I thought that you had no real fight in you.” 

Fighting Sanghyuk was like going against a whirlwind of unstoppable energy. There was no dance or room for careful footwork. Sanghyuk knew that he had nothing on Jaehwan’s years of technique so he made up for it with brute force and his decisive execution. 

Sanghyuk’s offensive forced Jaehwan into feinting and dodging, sneaking in blows that were blocked with scarily quick reactions. 

Jaehwan let him push them back past the clearing into where the tree line began. Sanghyuk must have sensed that somehow he had gained a victory over him, despite their large difference in skill. So he got cocky. 

It only took one mistimed blow for Jaehwan to be able to turn Sanghyuk’s momentum against him, counterattacking easily and disarming Sanghyuk of his weapon. 

Sanghyuk made a noise of surprise when his sword flew out of his hand and he stumbled, a lapse in concentration. The tree root jutted out from the ground, easy enough to miss, and Sanghyuk tumbled down, falling flatly back on his behind.

Jaehwan tried to hold in his laughter, he really did. But Sanghyuk’s flabbergasted expression broke him and he laughed openly at Sanghyuk’s expense . Sanghyuk scowled up at him, leaves in his hair. Eventually, he set his sword down and offered his hand out, helping Sanghyuk back up on his feet. 

“I hate you,” said Sanghyuk casually, “Now you’re just showing off.” He was thoroughly disgruntled as he brushed the grass off of his pants. 

Jaehwan smiled, his heart feeling lighter than it had in days and he figured that losing out on an hour or two of sleep was worth it to be able to prove his superiority in swordsmanship. “Maybe a little,” he admitted to which Sanghyuk punched him lightly in the arm. “You still have—” his eyes flickered up to Sanghyuk’s hair. 

Sanghyuk reached up and plucked a leaf out of his hair, twirled it between his fingers, and tucked it behind Jaehwan’s ear like a flower. “Pretty,” he said lightly and pretended not to notice the way Jaehwan’s cheeks reddened at the word when he removed the leaf and let it fall gently to the ground. 

“Am not,” he protested weakly before his words rushed ahead of him to change the topic, “I’m not just trying to show off, though. You could have held me off if you had a more defensive posture and— ah, I’m not good with my words. Here, let me show you.” 

Sanghyuk retrieved his sword the old fashioned way because he wasn’t as fancy as Jaehwan and Taekwoon with their bound weapons and what not. Jaehwan positioned himself against Sanghyuk’s back, not so subtly getting perhaps a little closer than necessary. Sanghyuk found that he didn’t mind. 

Then he reminded himself that Jaehwan’s purpose was definitely strictly educational.

“Spread your legs a little— wait, no, no, no. I didn’t mean it like that—” Jaehwan stuttered, becoming increasingly flustered behind him and Sanghyuk ducked his head, chuckling. 

Out of context, he supposed that the words sounded a little dirty, but Sanghyuk obliged and found it a little easier to balance. Jaehwan’s hands came to rest lightly on Sanghyuk’s torso, slim fingers pressing into his skin through his shirt as he turned Sanghyuk slightly, moving him to where he wanted. His fingertips skated across Sanghyuk’s arm when he moved his arms into position too. Jaehwan helped him change the angle of his sword ever so slightly this way, putting him in a better place to absorb the blow through his back rather than to be knocked over by the force of it. 

The more high functioning part of Sanghyuk’s brain was trying very hard to absorb Jaehwan’s quick prattle about how to properly use his opponent’s momentum against him to throw him off balance instead. 

But the majority of Sanghyuk’s brain power was very interested in the way Jaehwan’s crotch was purposefully or not purposefully against Sanghyuk’s non existent ass. Jaehwan wasn’t exactly small and dainty by most people’s standards, but compared to the group average, he brought down their average height by an inch or two. He didn’t miss how Jaehwan seemed to like to fit against Sanghyuk’s side like he belonged there, though. And how next to himself, Jaehwan small body frame seemed even smaller. But right now, he could still feel the sturdiness of his chest, the callouses on his hands, his strong and sure movements— 

“Sanghyuk, are you even listening to me?” 

He blinked rapidly, his thoughts returning to the present, “Y-yeah.” 

“Great, then you can show me your new and improved technique, right?” 

Ah, fuck. 

“Er,” said Sanghyuk and Jaehwan moved away to pick up his own sword again, with a smug look that told Sanghyuk that he full well knew what Sanghyuk was thinking about just moments before. He had gotten a lot bolder ever since he began to deduce Sanghyuk’s feelings toward him and when he realized that it was mutual...well, Jaehwan was just being cocky now. “Why don’t we do something that I’m good at, instead? You know, sometimes it’s better to not take every single fight head on, right?” 

“The concept of stealth is for weaklings and cop outs,” Jaehwan sneered but maybe he could sense that they were both already too distracted to get any actual training done. 

“Yes, well, you’re going to get yourself killed one day so I think, in the end, I’m the real winner here,” said Sanghyuk decisively. He took both of the swords and laid them on the ground nearby and decided that it was as good as a time as ever to take a break. He plopped down onto the ground with little semblance of grace and leaned against the tree trunk.

Jaehwan looked conflicted for quite a bit, torn between what must have been long ingrained habits to keep drilling and his desire to just take a break. Eventually, he gave in and sat down gingerly beside Sanghyuk. He leaned casually back, one leg extended forward and one bent at the knee. “I’ve thought of picking up a new skill like archery, actually,” he said suddenly, “But my aim’s always been pretty terrible. I guess you could probably tell since you play Overwatch with me and all.” 

Sanghyuk made a vague hand gesture, “I’m sure you could have gotten good at it if you practiced.”

Jaehwan snorted, shaking his head, “No, I just never had the eye or the patience for it.” He plucked absent-mindedly at the sparse and slightly damp grass, “What about you, then? Did you ever practice or did you come out of the womb able to shoot an apple off a tree a mile away?” 

Sanghyuk scoffed, “No,” he bluffed. 

Jaehwan raised an eyebrow at him. 

“I mean— sure, alright, I guess I had ‘natural talent’ or whatever but come on, I’m a son of Apollo. What did you expect?” he said, “Well, I was trained a bit but it wasn’t really to improve my accuracy. I mostly just got a lot faster with my reaction time over the years and— stuff.” 

“You trained?” questioned Jaehwan, “What? Did you just show up to your local archery range on the weekends as a youth and you just— started taking lessons?” 

Sanghyuk sighed, “No,” he said with faked disdain, “My— foster mother of sorts trained me. I grew up knowing that I was a demigod so I’ve always been able to see them. The monsters, I mean. I’m assuming Aera could too because she was kind of a hardass about my training. I mean, obviously, it looks like it’s coming in handy now.” 

“You don’t sound like you enjoyed it very much,” said Jaehwan quietly. 

“No, I didn’t,” confessed Sanghyuk, “I was sort of— I don’t know. I’m not cut out for the whole— violence thing.” He laughed a little, realizing how absurd he sounded. “Is that weird? I don’t particularly like combat and I don’t think I’m very good at it. But I’m a demigod. It’s kind of impossible to avoid.” 

The pines around them rustled, a bird chirping softly as the world around them began to awaken. Jaehwan took a moment longer than usual to reply and Sanghyuk turned to see him looking at him with something indiscernible in his eyes. The moment passed, though, because Jaehwan said, “When I was taken in by Taekwoon’s family, I went with them to the temple. The priests there were hosting a sacrifice to Demeter for the bountiful harvest we just had. I was— what? Nine? Ten? Taekwoon told me that I cried when they killed the cows and the goats. I didn’t want to see them hurt like that, even though I knew it was all supposed to be an offering to the gods.” He licked his lips quickly, as it seemed to be his habit. “I wish that I learned how to stay soft, like that. I think that you are stronger than me by far.” 

He could only imagine it. Sanghyuk almost smiled at the thought of a young Jaehwan, even bouncier and more energetic than he was now, so full of life and innocence. It was kind of depressing to realize that somewhere along the way, Jaehwan had lost so much of what he started out with. He still remembered Hongbin’s words to him, how Jaehwan broke down after his own death. How he became a murderer, a man with no heart. Sanghyuk wondered how Jaehwan would have turned out if things had gone just a little bit differently. “You were raised by Taekwoon’s family?” he asked. That explained why in the memories that Hongbin had showed him, Taekwoon was so adamant about Jaehwan’s lack of allegiance to their kingdom. 

“Yeah,” said Jaehwan, in the manner of one throwing away an off-hand comment. “I’m sure your childhood was infinitely more interesting than mine, though.” 

Sanghyuk wasn’t fooled. Jaehwan just didn’t want to talk about himself, in a shocking turn of events. He supposed that he didn’t have much to lose by talking about it. There was time to kill anyways, and Sanghyuk wasn’t inclined to head back into the Odyssey when he could instead enjoy the soft morning in Jaehwan’s company instead. So, “In typical anime protagonist fashion, I don’t— really know anything about my parents. Well, alright, I know my dad’s Apollo but I can’t exactly call him up every couple of weeks and ask him how he’s doing. I don’t remember my mom’s face or her name or— or just...anything. I guess that doesn’t matter though. A woman took me in, I’m sure she had demigod heritage too. Her name was Aera.” 

Just saying her name aloud made everything feel like a lifetime ago. To Jaehwan, he supposed that twelve years would feel like nothing. But those twelve years were the years he spent with Aera in that little wooden cabin, nestled in the valley of the mountains. He grew up with the summer grass and the babbling creek and the sparrows that flew overhead. 

“When I think of her, I think of lilacs and the summer berries,” he said, reminiscing. “She taught me how to shoot but she also taught me how to heal. My dad’s the god of medicine and all so I guess it makes sense that I enjoyed learning about it all. A sparrow broke their wing once when it ran into our window and she said it wouldn’t make it but I just— I don’t know. I think I was just being a stubborn kid but I just wouldn’t give up. I was so happy when we finally got to set it free.” 

He held the memories dear to him, but thinking of her made his heart feel hollow again. As far as he knew, she was dead. She had simply disappeared one day, leaving Sanghyuk alone with an empty house. If she was out there still, there was a large part of him that still resented her for abandoning him, seemingly without cause. He couldn’t fathom where she would be right now, but enough years had passed where he had come to terms with her absence either way. That didn’t mean there weren’t still times when the spring flowers bloomed and he didn’t still think of her. And her voice still nagged at him like she was right there beside him. Sanghyuk figured he could justify it because she was all he had for twelve or so years. It had been a lonelier life than he realized. 

He didn’t think that it was a good idea to load down Jaehwan with too many emotions this early in the morning, though, so Sanghyuk settled on, “Long story short, I was a hippie child in the woods for most of my childhood. Then she died and like any self respecting kid, I, of course, walked three or four hours alone in the woods until I reached the nearest town and hoped things would work out. Which, they did. Sort of. I only ended up meeting Hakyeon because he scared me and, so of course, I almost shot him. But then his family took pity on me and took me in eventually and I ended up growing up with Hakyeon which...honestly could be considered quite a bad thing if you think about it.” 

Jaehwan looked rather bemused at the sudden shift in tone but decided to just go along with it. Maybe he was tactful enough to know that sometimes, it was easier to make light of things than to linger too long on a subject that was best discussed after midnight with some alcohol in their system. So, of course, he just had to say, “You should have just shot him. Then he would have never met Taekwoon and then Taekwoon would have never went missing and then Hakyeon would have never come to us and I would still be safe and sound at home, completely content with wasting my life away.”

Sanghyuk chuckled, glancing sideways, “Well, yes, but then I would never have met you.” 

Jaehwan blinked at him in surprise. He very obviously looked away, rubbing at the back of his neck in awkwardness but Sanghyuk could still see little hints of his lopsided smile curving at the corner of his lips. His heart beat a hopeful one-two and he almost hated how with even the smallest of actions, Jaehwan could make him want to grin like a fool. 

Jaehwan licked his lips and Sanghyuk followed the action with his gaze. He probably wasn’t very good with being subtle either. “I—” Jaehwan looked back at him, something in his eyes drawing Sanghyuk in, “I hadn’t thought of it. We wouldn’t have met and you would have lived the rest of your life without my amazing personality in your life.” He said it with bravado but Sanghyuk wasn’t paying too much attention at this point.

He leaned in closer and he could see Jaehwan’s eyelashes flutter against his skin as he inhaled sharply. “Of course,” Sanghyuk agreed lightly, “Where would I be without you?”

Jaewan’s lips parted slightly and he leaned forward subconsciously. Sanghyuk’s heart raced and this close, he could smell Jaehwan’s shampoo— wait, no, that was his. The fucker was still stealing from him. He could chastise him for it after, though. Sanghyuk closed his eyes and leaned in— 

“Sanghyuk! Jaehwan!” Wonsik’s voice cut through the chilly morning air and they both sprang back, like two high schoolers caught making out behind the bleachers. “Hongbin said that if you guys aren’t back in five minutes, we’re leaving without you!” 

Jaehwan made a garbled noise at the back of his throat and Sanghyuk snickered at his wide eyed expression. Wonsik vaguely circled the perimeter of the parked Odyssey then gave up, probably figuring that it was too much effort this early in the morning to search for the two wayward demigods. His brows knitted together as he sent a text on his phone and returned back inside, mumbling something under his breath that neither of them could catch. 

The van’s door slammed shut. They both looked at each other. Jaehwan laughed first, his smile crinkling the corner of his eyes and Sanghyuk wondered just how many people before him had fallen in love with that smile. There was something to be said about the adrenaline of almost being caught, though, and Sanghyuk found himself releasing a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. Sanghyuk shook his head minutely, smiling slightly himself. “Guess we lost track of time,” he said.

“They probably just want me back so that I can make breakfast,” Jaehwan complained with a pout. Sanghyuk found it very hard to resist calling him cute. Then he realized that even the thought of finding a demigod as old as Jaehwan cute was absurd. Jaehwan cleared his throat, his cheeks still flushed and he looked like he was trying very hard not to think about what had almost just happened. “Let’s head back—” 

He made a muffled sound of surprise when Sanghyuk suddenly grabbed the front of his sweater and pulled him in, kissing him soundly on the lips. It couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds before Sanghyuk leaned back. Jaehwan’s eyes remained half lidded for several moments, his fingers pressed to his own lips like he was remembering the feeling of Sanghyuk’s lips on his. 

Sanghyuk stood up, then, brushing the grass off his pants, feeling quite like he was on top of the world. “Well,” he said cheekily, “We’re supposed to head back, right?” 

Jaehwan blinked up at him, like he still couldn’t quite believe that Sanghyuk ended up being the first one to make a move. “Yeah,” he said hollowly and extended his arm, letting Sanghyuk pull him back up to his feet. Then he seemed to come back to his senses and he hit Sanghyuk’s arm without any real force, “I hate you.” He said, completely deadpan.

 

At breakfast that day, Sanghyuk wolfed down his breakfast, a byproduct of having to be athletic before eight A.M. 

Silverware clanged against porcelain bowls and plates. Then suddenly, “Jaehwan, can you stop looking at Sanghyuk like a besotted fool for once in your life and just finish your food?” 

He shot Jaehwan a look who only grumbled something about being bullied at the dinner table when he worked so hard to feed them. 

Taekwoon raised an eyebrow and said, “I was the one who made breakfast this morning, though.” 

Jaehwan glared at him. 

— 

The previous long stretches of freeway through the midwest were well behind them. The Odyssey spent more time carefully navigating mountainsides and winding city roads than going ninety on straight country lanes. Hongbin grew tired of piloting the minivan and threw Jaehwan on driving duty instead. He often wondered why Hongbin thought it was a good idea considering he didn’t even technically have his driving license.

They could have avoided this particular little side trip, but Hongbin insisted on stopping by a nearby town for supplies. They wouldn’t have even been low on their supplies of nectar and ambrosia if Taekwoon hadn’t been stealing tiny amounts to rid himself of his headaches.

When confronted, Taekwoon defended himself by claiming that he was old and feeble.

Hongbin, for whatever reason, decided to accept that excuse.

Sanghyuk snoozed in the passenger seat beside him, having gotten bored of Jaehwan’s car radio karaoke approximately five minutes after they got on the road. 

The Odyssey’s headlights flickered on as evening fell upon them. The trees hunched over on either side of the road, cowed by the quickening wind. The rain fell heavily as they made their way through the back roads. The windshield wipers squeaked with every swipe, working overtime to maintain at least some sort of visibility. Jaehwan was just glad that he seemed to be the only one on the road in this wretched rain because he couldn't see more than several feet ahead of him. 

The road dipped and water flew up, splashing against the windows. Sanghyuk jolted awake and squinted a little in disapproval at Jaehwan's driving, but Jaehwan ignored it because at least they were almost there and as long as he didn't kill any of them, he wasn't too worried. 

On either side of them, broken and rusted cars lay abandoned. Jaehwan couldn't quite shake the feeling of ghost town as they came closer to the settlement. A dilapidated sign greeted them, or, that's what he assumed the purpose was because it had peeled away so badly that he could only see the vague imprints of a cheery blue sky. 

Sanghyuk peered out the water streaked glass, "What the hell is Hongbin thinking?" he asked aloud, "He said that his old friend lives out here?"

"He was awfully vague about it," said Jaehwan, gripping the steering wheel much tighter than he usually would as they went around a turn, "I don't think anyone's lived here for years, though."  
The gravel crunched underneath the tires as Jaehwan pulled to a stop in the parking lot of an old Blockbuster.

"I feel like I'm looking at the ruins of an old temple," Sanghyuk said, craning his head to get a better view of the blue and yellow time.

"To think that I once was unable to just easily pirate all the latest hits," Jaehwan reminisced. 

"You don't pay?"

"I'm poor!"

"Wow," drawled Sanghyuk, "What a criminal." 

They clambered out of the van, taking care to tread lightly around the puddles. Hakyeon, apparently, did not take such precautions judging by his shriek coming from the other side of the van.

Sanghyuk snickered at him, not even bothering to fake any sympathy. 

Hakyeon shivered, yanking up the zipper on his jacket. "I have water in my socks and I now want to die," he said melodramatically. 

"You'll live," said Taekwoon, his now damp hair sticking to his forehead.

Hongbin hopped out, swearing at the general misery caused by the weather, "Can the rain just like, fuck off for a second? That'd be great."

Jaehwan sent Taekwoon a pointed look. He knew with certainty that Taekwoon had the ability to use his powers to send the weather system somewhere else or if he was feeling lazy, he would at least be able to clear out the skies in their immediate area. But Taekwoon looked back at him, took stock of the way that Jaehwan looked like a very disgruntled wet puppy, smirked a little and shook his head minutely.

Bastard.

Wonsik was the only one that looked relatively unaffected and his spirits remained as buoyant as ever. Jaehwan inwardly admired his resilience. "So, what's the game plan?" he asked Hongbin cheerfully. But Hongbin was too busy drawing floating symbols into the air with his stylus to create a personal insulated bubble.

"I'll have to go check up on my friend and restock our stores. Theoretically, I should be able to find him on my own so you guys are free to explore as long as you don't get into trouble," Hongbin said. 

Jaehwan glanced up at the sky, "No offense intended, of course, but I do not think that— exploring is looking like a very fun idea right now."

Taekwoon looked around, his face impassive, then he spoke his one word in ancient greek. Cease. The rain around the town came to a screeching halt, the wind subsiding around them. Outside the confines of the buildings, the storm still raged on but within seconds, the clouds parted from the center of the settlement. 

Hongbin froze, halfway through drawing a new symbol. He turned, very slowly, toward Taekwoon, his glare frosty enough to freeze hell over. "I'm beginning to think that we should have left you as a servant of Gaea." 

Taekwoon looked like he was trying his very best not to smile but he couldn't quite hide his mischievous laughter. Hakyeon looked torn between fondness and exasperation and Jaehwan just felt vaguely annoyed at it all.

"Rain or not, this place doesn't look like the safest place to just be wandering around," Sanghyuk said, sticking close to Jaehwan, "Does this place seem a little sketchy to anyone else or— ? No? Just me?" 

"Don't worry about it," Hongbin said breezily, "This place is completely abandoned." 

"Well, yeah, that's kind of why— " Sanghyuk was about to reason, but he cut himself off with a resigned sigh, "You know what? Nevermind." 

"Just don't wander off alone and you should be fine," said Wonsik, shifting his weight, "You can take the Odyssey, too, if you want. Just don't crash it."

"We'll call you when I'm done," said Hongbin, "Just don't make too many stupid decisions, alright, kids?" 

Last he checked, Jaehwan was still older than him, but he decided that for today, he would let it slide. "Come on, we're taking the Odyssey." He grabbed Sanghyuk's hand and tugged him back toward the van. It wasn't raining anymore, but it was still much too cold for his comfort. 

Sanghyuk's hand was warm in his grasp and he went along willingly. "Do you want to drive?" Jaehwan asked suddenly. "I mean, there's not too many things around that you could hit and kill." 

Sanghyuk contemplated it for a bit then shrugged, holding his hand out for the keys, "Sure but just so you know, I only had my license for like two months before I went to college. And then my parents took my car, so." 

"I'll take my chances," said Jaehwan, climbing into the passenger seat. If he was being honest with himself, he was just being lazy. "Take me on a tour, Mr. Han." 

After a brief scare where Sanghyuk accidentally stepped on the accelerator too quickly, they were cruising down the town's main road. They both soon realized, though, that there was not much beyond the main road besides some vague tributaries that lead to old trailer parks and old movie theaters, with their marquees still displaying showtimes for movies from a decade past. There were houses with shutters like eyes, staring at them as they drove by, doors gaping open like mouths, ready to swallow stories up whole. 

"Hope you're not afraid of ghosts," Sanghyuk said lowly, slowing down to nearly a crawl as they went the scenic route, the heater turned up high.

Jaehwan snorted, "My father literally lives in hell. I am constantly surrounded by ghosts."

That caught his interest, "Really? Can you, like, talk to them?"

"Only if I want to," he said simply. "Most of them are friendly and usually, they're just happy that someone can see them, can remember them. The malevolent spirits usually go rogue and turn into demons or monsters and those, obviously, are the ones you have to be afraid of." 

"Does everyone become a ghost after they die?" asked Sanghyuk. 

"Technically, yes. But most spirits stay in the Underworld where they belong after they're judged. Only when souls are not given a proper burial or if they have a strong attachment to unfinished business on earth do they remain," Jaehwan explained.

"So what happened to you?"

He asked so bravely, apparently blissfully aware that he was treading on a sensitive subject. Either that or he was just faking his ignorance in a ploy to get Jaehwan to tell him more. He knew it would sound awfully cliche if he said aloud that he was a special case and that wasn't to mention how much the sentence sounded like it inflated his ego. It was a little more complicated than that anyways and Jaehwan felt that with Sanghyuk, whatever he told him would be safe with him. "They never buried me properly," he said, "Or, well, _he_ never buried me properly. My body was burned and Taekwoon buried the ashes...honestly, I don't even remember where I was buried anymore. There was no grave, nothing to remember me by. It was— strange, to say the least to be stuck in limbo, the odd space between here and nowhere. I was dead and I was aware of it but I just— I was never able to move on. You know of Thanatos, yes?"

"The god we're trying to rescue? I'm not _that_ forgetful," said Sanghyuk.

Jaehwan rolled his eyes, "Well, I still don't know why he did it. He took pity on me, he gave me a second chance. I simply did not have to die when I was working with the god of death. I guess, in hindsight, if Taekwoon had been less of a dick and gave me a proper burial, things would have turned out much differently." 

"You're— sorry, what could Thanatos possibly want from you that would be good enough to allow you to just— just not die?" 

Jaehwan paused, deliberate, "I think that there are still some secrets I can keep." 

Sanghyuk sighed, "Yes, you are very edgy." 

"Precisely," said Jaehwan. 

The crumbling houses gave way to a large fenced area. Barbed wire lined the top and there was still a sign or two here and there that denoted the place's purpose: it was a junkyard. It was also the edge of town. Sanghyuk slowed the Odyssey to a halt. "Now what?" Sanghyuk said, the road dead-ending at the start of the forest that surrounded the town. Beyond the road, the storm still raged on, outside of the perimeter of Taekwoon's effect.

Jaehwan shrugged, privately thinking to himself that what he really wanted to do was talk about the fact that Sanghyuk kissed him early. And he wanted a repeat. And making out in the car away from others sounded like an activity he was completely on board with right now. 

But he also didn't want to push things too quickly and Sanghyuk seemed like he was more in the mood for exploring than being a hormonal teenager. "We could always see what's in that junkyard," he suggested. 

Sanghyuk looked slightly worried, "How safe do you think it is?"

"Oh, learn to live a little," said Jaehwan, unbuckling his seatbelt and grabbing his phone, "And if things go badly, I'm here." 

"Right," said Sanghyuk, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "I'm starting to become convinced that you're just bad luck, though." 

"I'm starting to think that we are simply bad at making good decisions," he said as they left the car in the middle of the road. There was a gap in the fencing, just big enough for someone to crawl through. Jaehwan figured that the worst thing that could happen was an old car toppling over and crashing down on them but at least that was better than being attacked by a monster.  
He crouched down and slipped his way through the opening . He could hear Sanghyuk following close behind. 

The last of the sun above cast a strange light over the junkyard and it felt unsettling to be underneath its glow when they could hear the downpour of rain just outside the barbed wire fence. 

Sanghyuk’s sweater momentarily got caught on the fence and Jaehwan’s first instinct was, of course, to tease him, “Wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t a giant barbarian.”

“I wouldn’t look like such a giant barbarian if you didn’t look like a skinny little shit,” Sanghyuk shot back without missing a beat. 

Jaehwan huffed, walking deeper into the junkyard, “It is not simply a matter of proportions you have— legs that look like you could kick me across the country.” 

“Yeah,” Sanghyuk said, “You know how I got those?” 

Jaehwan didn’t know why he even regaled him with an answer, “How is that?”

“By not being a skinny little shit,” said Sanghyuk smugly. 

Jaehwan turned to see Sanghyuk’s eyes sparkling impishly and he felt so— lost for a moment. He couldn’t fathom how Sanghyuk went from a stranger, distrusting him on principle of his birth to— to this. Whatever _this_ was. 

He felt like he should have made note of the moment where he realized that he treasured Sanghyuk’s words, even the thorny barbs sent his way. Jaehwan wanted to rewind time and pinpoint the moment where he stopped seeing the Sanghyuk as Hakyeon’s stubborn friend who wanted to tag along and he started seeing him as the Sanghyuk who took his breath away. He didn’t think it was fair that Sanghyuk could be so oblivious to it all. 

What had their morning even meant? 

Sanghyuk had kissed him and then never brought it up again. He acted like it had never happened. Seven A.M. felt like it happened last week, not just several hours ago. Was Sanghyuk just pulling some kind of elaborate joke on him? Jaehwan didn’t like to think of himself as insecure, but, well, Sanghyuk felt like one of the few people he had met that was impossible to read. 

One moment he was chastising Jaehwan for screwing up in one way or another and the next, they were up at two in the morning on the rooftop, swapping stories and silence as they lay next to each other. 

Jaehwan wanted simple. He liked simple. But he was just left not knowing what was going on in Sanghyuk’s impossible mind and left wishing, aching for something more. 

He followed Sanghyuk through the maze of rusted metal and odds and ends. The door to an old corvette swayed slowly, squeaking as it did so. Sanghyuk looked at everything with the subdued curiosity of someone who had grown up in a small town and was told explicitly not to hang around in places like this. Probably, Jaehwan reflected, because this was the kind of place for rowdy suburban teenagers to get drunk and do stupid teenage things as teenagers are wont to do. 

The headlights of cars stared at him with vacant eyes as they tread upon unknown territory. Around the perimeter of the fence towered stacks of metal, forming defunct faces and grotesque forms. They almost looked like sentinels, standing at guard over the industrial graveyard. 

They wandered a little more, Sanghyuk not stopping for long at any particular thing. Eventually, he found a small shed, a part of the roof lost to time. “Looks like someone’s hideout,” Sanghyuk commented, peeking in. 

Jaehwan was about to tell him that maybe going in wasn’t the safest idea, but the thought barely had time to flash across his mind before Sanghyuk was clambering in. He simply sighed a little and followed him in, noting a little too late that the space was barely designed to fit two people. It was snug at best and Jaehwan was at least thankful that he wasn’t claustrophobic. 

The walls around them were covered in sharpie. There were little doodles here and there but they were mostly— “Love letters,” Jaehwan breathed out, his fingers tracing over the loop of words, “Looks like we had a modern day Romeo and Juliet here.” 

They were messages to each other of meeting places and times, but most of them were little notes left to each other. Some of them were as mundane as ‘I thought of your smile today’ to loopy cursive declaring, ‘I love you.’ 

The thought of two star crossed lovers warmed his heart a little to be able to glimpse into a part of someone’s life from decades ago. Sanghyuk looked around, the top of his head almost hitting the roof of the shed. He said, “Awfully romantic if you think about it.” 

“Hm,” Jaehwan hummed, reading some of the messages and inwardly wondering just when teenagers had suddenly acquired the ability to be so poetic. 

“What do you think about love?” asked Sanghyuk suddenly. 

That was one way to throw Jaehwan for a loop, that was for sure. “Come again?” he asked as politely as he could. “That’s a bit— broad.” 

“You loved Taekwoon,” he said casually, throwing the words out there like Jaehwan didn’t want to recoil from them every time he was confronted with it, “I’m guessing that you’ve been a bit wary of love ever since then.” 

Jaehwan’s heart faltered a little and his mouth felt dry. He didn’t know why he felt so odd discussing this with Sanghyuk. He bit down on his lower lip and looked away. “I—” he wondered what Sanghyuk wanted to hear from him and realized that he didn’t know at all what he wanted. “No, not quite. I think that if I stopped believing in love, I would have turned out to be a very cynical person.” 

He could feel Sanghyuk’s eyes on him and it made him feel so oddly fidgety and small. Their shadows painted the walls and just beyond the door, late autumn leaves of red and orange fluttered down to the ground. “I’ve loved a lot of people, to be honest. I just loved them all in very different ways and some of them ended up as good for me and some of them just tore me down. But that doesn’t change the fact that I loved them even when I lost them.” Jaehwan leaned against the wall, his breath leaving his lips and clouding the air. “I don’t think that I’ve loved anyone as much as I did with Taekwoon but I think— I don’t think that was very good for me. I just never learned how to let go. I wasn’t right for him and he wasn’t right for me but now—” 

His throat tightened and Sanghyuk looked at him curiously. 

Jaehwan exhaled slowly, carefully. _But now I can’t afford to fall in love because when this is all over, I will be dead and you will be alone._

But he couldn’t tell him that because he wasn’t in love, he wasn’t. Jaehwan was just afraid of falling in the first place and taking Sanghyuk down with him. 

“You alright?” asked Sanghyuk, forcing him out of his own head.

“Yeah,” he said unconvincingly, “Just— lost my train of thought for a second.” 

“It’s alright,” Sanghyuk said softly. Jaehwan’s heart positively ached at how caring he sounded when Sanghyuk could just as easily use that voice to put him in his place and tease him to no end. There was a softness in Sanghyuk’s eyes that he rarely saw and he felt almost like he was laying his heart bare. 

Jaehwan forgot, oftentimes, just how young Sanghyuk was. He was just skirting the tip of life, barely coming to know love for the first time. Sanghyuk was supposed to be getting a weekend job and chugging cheap spirits with his friends but he was here with the rest of them and Jaehwan wondered if Sanghyuk would ever fall in love with someone like him. But there lay the problem.

He could recall every love that he mourned and if there was one thing he learned, it always hurt more being the one left behind. 

Jaehwan cleared his throat, looking at Sanghyuk, “I wasn’t even aware that you had feelings,” he joked. 

A whirlwind of emotions flickered in Sanghyuk’s eyes before he shook his head as if he was clearing his thoughts, “Well,” he said thoughtfully, “I do for some people.” 

That caught him off guard and Jaehwan laughed, the sound quick and short. His eyes shone with fondness in the dusky evening light, “You have a way with words.” He meant it, for once, without sarcasm. Sanghyuk did have quite the penchant for charm and Jaehwan wasn’t even sure if he meant to do it on purpose. 

His eyes caught Sanghyuk’s gaze, dropping to the curve of his lips. 

Sanghyuk took a step forward, his shoes muffled on the decaying wooden floorboard. “As do you,” he said, his voice low and sweet like a lover’s caress, “How am I supposed to hold onto my heart with you around?” 

“Flattery will get you nowhere with me,” he said and it felt like a jolt of deja vu. Then he remembered, he had said those exact words the first time they sat on a rooftop together in the middle of a desert night.

Sanghyuk seemed to remember too because as he closed the distance, his hand on the back of Jaehwan’s neck, he said, “Oh, I think flattery will get me _everywhere_ with you.” 

He held his breath, his eyes fluttering closed as Sanghyuk leaned in, his lips a breath’s width away from Jaehwan’s— 

_Bzz. Bzz._ His phone vibrated twice in his pocket, making them both jump suddenly. 

Sanghyuk stepped backward, his cheeks a ruddy red like he had overstepped his boundaries. 

He fought to tamper down the feeling of disappointment that rose in him, wondering if the universe was simply determined to block him at every moment just for wanting to have one nice, solid makeout session with Sanghyuk. He resisted the urge not to curse as he fumbled in his pocket for his phone, the screen’s brightness up much too high for the time of day. He squinted, reading the message. 

Sanghyuk cleared his throat awkwardly, “What did they say?”

Jaehwan made a throwaway gesture with his free hand. “Hongbin said that he can’t find his friend and he might have to contact his mother to get more specific whereabouts,” he said with the utmost unimpressed expression, “I mean, I’m not saying that he could have thought of that sooner but—” 

Sanghyuk interrupted his thoughts and nudged him with his shoulder, “Don’t get grumpy. On the bright side, we still got a break from being in the Odyssey for another day.”

Well, he supposed that much was true. 

Plus, he would always jump at a chance to spend more time with Sanghyuk alone. His rational mind was always there, reminding him that this was not a good idea in the slightest. Jaehwan couldn’t afford to let down his walls to allow Sanghyuk in. It wasn’t for fear of being hurt by him, it was for fear of breaking Sanghyuk’s heart. But he couldn’t seem to help it. Every time he tried to talk himself out of it, it felt like Sanghyuk reached out to grab his heart and pull him in.

Jaehwan knew that he was drowning and shore was a very long way off.

“Hold on, before we go,” said Jaehwan, pulling out a pen from his pocket. Sanghyuk paused in his steps as Jaewan crouched down, adding his own message to the wall. His handwriting was long and loopy as he left his message on the wall. The thin black of his ink was superimposed over other layers of history, his own little piece of correspondence left permanently on the wall for the next traveler to find. 

“Why did you have to write it in Greek?” Sanghyuk complained, “What does it say?” 

“It’s a secret,” Jaehwan said coyly. He indulged his inner child and booped Sanghyuk on the nose as he walked out of the shack and back into the early evening. He personally thought that he was doing a rather decent job of pretending that he hadn’t secretly been wishing for Sanghyuk to linger longer and kiss him while they were away from the others. “Maybe if you actually studied Greek like any self respecting demigod, you’d be able to understand.”

“I’m pretty sure I have enough trouble being fluent in both Korean and English,” griped Sanghyuk, ducking as he went through the doorway. 

They picked their way carefully back around, stepping neatly to avoid the puddles. Jaehwan was very thankful that he hadn’t chosen today to wear his favorite white shoes. 

Metal creaked in the wind, old cars rocking in their precarious piles. Jaehwan knew that it wasn’t his imagination that Sanghyuk walked closer to him than he usually would, their arms brushing through their sweaters. This was absurd. He felt like a youth himself again in trying to court Sanghyuk. He wished that he had the courage to reach out and take his hand but instead, he settled for brushing an errant strand of Sanghyuk’s hair out of his face instead. 

They neared the gap in the fencing when from behind them came a loud bang, the sound of metal crashing against metal. Jaehwan nearly jumped out of his skin, whirling around to the source of the sound and hoping that it wasn’t just the wind that nearly gave him a heart attack. 

It wasn’t. 

“Aww,” Sanghyuk cooed unexpectedly, “Oh, it’s just a kitten. Did you seriously get scared?”

Jaehwan bluffed, shamelessly adopting an unflappable persona, “No, I just like to be prepared for the worst case scenario.” 

“Right,” said Sanghyuk, dropping Jaehwan immediately to go see to the kitten. “Jaehwan, come here. I think— no, yeah, it’s hurt. We can’t just leave it here.” 

Jaehwan glanced at the Odyssey still parked just beyond the fence. The Odyssey had a heating system and it was warm. It was still bitterly cold outside and the thought of abandoning Sanghyuk was surprisingly tempting. But Sanghyuk had already run off to attend to the poor animal and he figured that he would have an angry Hakyeon to answer to if he actually did leave.

He sighed, eyeing the pile of scrap that towered over both Sanghyuk and the kitten with mistrust. If such a small amount of force could topple the remains of a car door, he wasn’t sure if he wanted Sanghyuk risking his neck for a cat. Though, he might have allowed for it had it been a stray dog. He really had never been much of a cat person. 

Jaehwan didn’t exactly rush to come over but as he did, it became evident that he had apparently mistaken the large pile of scrap for some kind of sculpture. Or, more accurately, it looked like a high school experiment gone wrong and the person creating it only had a vague idea of what a robot was supposed to look like and cobbled the whole thing together with old car parts and superglue. 

“It’s stuck under this— this thing,” Sanghyuk said, pushing fruitlessly against what looked like a large metal arm. 

Jaehwan just wanted a world where he actually felt useful as a demigod. 

Then he remembered that as soon as Jaehwan and Taekwoon had been old enough to strike off on their own as heroes, one of their first contracts was to help a particularly wealthy merchant track down his lucky cow. 

“You are too much of a philanthropist,” Jaehwan griped, but he obliged anyways. The ground beside him split open and he drew his sword. He was, as Sanghyuk had put it so politely earlier, a skinny little shit so he thought that there were more efficient ways to do this. 

Sanghyuk’s eyes went comically wide when he saw Jaehwan draw, “Holy shit, be fucking careful—” 

Jaehwan swung at the thinner pieces of metal holding the metal arm to the body of the rest of the figure. The blade came admittedly a little close to the kitten’s tail but Jaehwan figured that he could be considered an expert with his sword and he felt vaguely offended that Sanghyuk actually thought that he might end up as a kitten killer. He knew he could be heartless sometimes, but even that was pushing it. “See? All in a day’s work,” he said with pride.

The kitten meowed indignantly at them, tail sticking straight up in the air. It stared at them for a moment longer, its eyes surprisingly lucid before it ran off, pelting through the undergrowth and jumping through the open fence. “I’m just saying that if that was a dog, it probably would have showed a little more gratitude,” said Jaehwan fussily. 

“Remind me again why I put up with you,” said Sanghyuk. 

“Because you love me—” Jaehwan began in jest. That was, until the previously inanimate robot that they had just saved the cat from began to move. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.” 

They backed away quickly, Jaehwan holding his sword at the ready. Sanghyuk, perhaps now jaded from life threatening experiences, took the extra moment to shoot, “I told you that you were bad luck.” 

The sound of metal joints creaking sent a chill down Jaehwan’s spine. All around them, smaller forms of the robots rose from the piles and piles of metal surrounding the junkyard. Jaehwan should have known that there was something just a little off about the whole place and the signs had been trying to warn them out for a reason. 

They looked up, into the face of the awakened monster. It towered over them, easily two or three times their height, a mismatched Frankenstein creation of iron, steel, and rust. One of its eyes was an old clock, hanging onto its face for dear life. The other, the rim of an old tire. It had no real mouth, just a gaping open hole of metal in its face. 

Well, at least it was missing an arm. 

“Get to high ground!” Jaehwan ordered but there was no real method of escape for Sanghyuk without sending the gargantuan robot after him. 

He made a mental note to apologize to him for this later. Jaehwan warped the shadows around Sanghyuk’s feet, swallowing him whole and teleporting him to the other side of the junkyard, perched on top of the old shack that they had just previously been in. He knew from experience that the Shadow Stepping Express™ could often induce some rather strong feelings of nausea for first time users and hoped that Sanghyuk would come to his bearings soon because he was looking to be in quite a bit of trouble, surrounded by one very large and angry robot and many small but also angry robots. 

Jaehwan let them close in around him. They didn’t seem to be built to be particularly fast. Jaehwan quickly shadow stepped out of the circle they formed around him, appearing behind one of the numerous smaller robots, his sword striking neatly through the air and striking it down.

The robot spluttered and died, the light in its eyes fading out quickly as thick, black smoke was released from a hole in its head. 

“Watch out!” Sanghyuk yelled. 

Jaehwan ducked instinctively, just as an arrow whistled through the air, finding its final target in the robot that was just inches away from grabbing him. Its tin hands curled in the air before it fell to the ground.

He fell into the rhythm of battle. Strike, side step, parry, dodge, counter blow. It was almost strange not having a partner beside him, bringing up his weaker side. In his mind’s eye, he could imagine Taekwoon beside him, opposite sword of brilliant bronze cutting a whirlwind path through a hoard of slow, frail enemies.

But in the present, Jaehwan was the only one on the battlefield. The cold evening air cut through his skin as he slipped through the shadows, disappearing and re-materializing behind the endless wave of machinery. 

Sanghyuk, instead, was a steady presence from afar, picking off enemies that lurched toward Jaehwan before he even noticed their staggering gait, too preoccupied with the massive one-armed robot that stampeded across the junkyard, crushing everything underfoot as it set its mind on killing and dismantling Jaehwan. 

“Focus on the big one, I’ve got your back,” shouted Sanghyuk. 

His chest stung with exertion. They seemed to keep coming and Jaehwan was really only meant for sharp bursts of energy. He wasn’t sure if he could sustain this and his mind blanked when it came to the prospect of killing something that, well, wasn’t from his endless repertoire of mythology. 

Jaehwan cut down another minion, metal clanging horribly against metal. The armless robot swung its remaining arm out, knocking aside its own smaller robot sentries, oil gushing from its gaping mouth as it scrambled across to Jaehwan. 

He coughed, choking on the noxious smog, cursing as he stumbled backwards. Jaehwan struggled to keep his footing but he was only one man against one very large being. The army around them was very quickly meeting its death by arrow. He blearily wondered when he had begun to trust Sanghyuk so easily with his life. 

The giant robot loomed against the backdrop of its own self produced smoke. Jaehwan had no time to think, to devise a plan. Parry, dodge, converse momentum, provoke and counterattack. The world moved like an oil painting. All undefined lines and hazy shapes and Jaehwan was finding it harder and harder to think, to keep fighting. 

Whatever was in the smoke sank deep into Jaehwan’s lungs. Was it poison? He could feel his reactions slow down, too many close calls after another. He couldn’t think, he could barely breathe. Panic clawed at his chest, some deep rooted instinct in him jolting through his system to keep him alive, keeping him awake. 

Blearily, he could recognize Sanghyuk’s voice in the background. Jaehwan swung and missed. “Jaehwan!” His voice rang in the air, like the tolling of bells, “Cut its power supply, you need to cut its wires. Jae, focus, focus—” 

_Focus._

_Focus._

There was a ringing in his ears that drowned out the rest of the world. A strange sense of calm settled over him. It was like being underwater. The world continued to turn but he couldn’t hear, he couldn’t breathe, he could barely see. 

Jaehwan’s vision blurred as he struggled to replay Sanghyuk’s words in his mind. _Focus_. The past pulled at his consciousness. He remembered long hours in the training field with Taekwoon’s words like a whip on his bare back. _Focus_. But Sanghyuk’s words were a pull back to the present, pleading, urging him to stay alive. 

Sanghyuk. He couldn’t, he couldn’t— he couldn’t leave Sanghyuk alone.

The world leaped ahead in fast forward as Jaehwan came back to his senses, thoughts pouring back into his blank mind. Jaehwan dodged the robot’s one armed swing. Behind him, metal crashed to the ground as another sentry fell to a well placed shot. He could almost imagine Sanghyuk’s great sigh of relief from across the junkyard.

“The wires are on the back of its neck!” Sanghyuk directed him and Jaehwan disappeared into a shadow and reappeared out from beyond the noxious smoke. He pivoted to see a flaming arrow shoot through the sky like a meteorite, lodging itself in the back of the robot’s neck. Sure enough, Sanghyuk was right. 

The wirings were exposed and sparks leapt into the air.

Sanghyuk’s arrows could only damage them, not sever them entirely. 

He tried to shake off the worst of his nausea. The less he thought about what he was going to do, the less foolish it seemed in his head. Overuse of his powers certainly didn’t help the fact that he felt like he was going to pass out if he was on his feet for a second longer but there was no other way to do this. Jaehwan reached into the last reserves of his power, tearing through space and shadow stepping right onto the back of the junkyard’s monster.

He missed, marginally, and barely saved himself by grabbing onto a jutting piece of metal on the back of its head. “Jaehwan!” Sanghyuk shouted, half in panic half to yell at him for thinking that it was a good idea. His legs dangled beneath him, shoes scrambling on slick metal for any kind of purchase. 

The sharp piece of metal dug into his hand and he hissed at the sharp sting. It sliced into his palm and all he could think about was how he hoped that his blood wouldn’t make it any harder than it already was to just hang on. 

Jaehwan grit his teeth as the robot swung its head, its entire body moving as it stomped a little circle around the spot where he had been standing just seconds before. He sent a silent prayer of thanks up to the gods that it might have been menacing but at least it lacked any real intelligence or sentience. Below him, the ground was littered with the empty shells of the junkyard’s other sentries. 

His left arm trembled. There was no way he could hold on for much longer. Now. It had to be now. 

Jaehwan swung with all of his strength, night darkened iron cutting through the tangle of wires that kept the being alive. 

At once, the robot bellowed, a swarm of smoke puffing out from the hole of its mouth, filling the air with chemicals. It took one step forward, then another. Then it began to fall.

Jaehwan’s hand slipped, the jagged metal dragging through his flesh. 

Then he was falling. 

There was nothing to stop his descent through the air and the sky receded further away. Panic. Blinding panic set adrenaline rushing through his system. There couldn’t have been more than half a second to react but Jaehwan would rather not end the day with a concussion or any major life threatening injuries. He disappeared into the shadow on the ground as he fell. 

Jaehwan was lost. 

Time slowed down when he traveled by shadow. It was always a strange sensation to be stuck right in the middle of here and there, existent and nonexistent. The powers granted to the children of Hades were always high risk and high reward. He hadn’t been almost lost to the void while shadow stepping ever since he was a child and yet, he had made a rookie mistake without even thinking about it. _Focus_. 

Sanghyuk. 

He fought to visualize where he stood, on the top of the shack where the evening sun broke through the trees. Where Sanghyuk was standing, waiting for him. Probably to berate him for almost getting himself killed. 

Jaehwan tore through the air, re-emerging back in the real world. He landed with much less grace than usual but Sanghyuk was there, steadying him with his arms around his waist. He stumbled, leaning against Sanghyuk’s front, wincing at how dirty his own clothes were and how he could see the soot coming off of his sweater and onto Sanghyuk’s. “I’m sorry—” he began to apologize but was cut off by Sanghyuk kissing him fiercely. 

He almost protested, pushing him away on reflex, an excuse already prepared, but Sanghyuk just kissed him again and again and again. Sanghyuk’s hand came to rest on the back of his neck and Jaehwan shivered involuntarily, arching away from his touch. Jaehwan melted into the kiss, sighing breathily. 

Time dissolved and became nothing, then became something with every shared breath and every gasp. Reality dissolved when Sanghyuk dragged his teeth against Jaehwan’s lower lip, and he felt like he was going to dissolve at the warm slide of his tongue against his. Because Jaehwan had kissed more people with his traitorous mouth than he could count, but this was the kind of moment that tore Jaehwan’s heart raw out of his chest. 

They pressed their foreheads together and Jaehwan delighted in the simple joy of seeing Sanghyuk smile. It was a smile that was uninhibited and caught drunk in the moment, the kind that caught the dying light of day and held it. “I should have waited for a moment like this,” Sanghyuk murmured against his mouth, “Far more romantic and dramatic than trying to steal a kiss from you earlier.” 

“I think that I’m lucky to have you kissing me at all,” Jaehwan said honestly. 

Sanghyuk pretended to think on that, “Well, yes, you’re an idiot but,” he kissed him again and Sanghyuk’s hand tightened around his waist, “I think that I’m willing to overlook that.” 

Jaehwan felt that he was out of clever retorts. He laughed a little, feeling painfully young. Sanghyuk seemed to have that effect on him, bringing him backwards through the years until Jaehwan felt like he still had a whole future ahead of him. He wasn’t falling in love, he wasn’t. He really wasn’t. But he still felt like the world began and ended with Sanghyuk’s mouth and oh, it was so hard to not become a besotted fool. 

He wanted to be selfish.

Jaehwan thought that maybe, just maybe, he could have his few months of precious happiness. Would it be worth it? To break Sanghyuk’s heart just to mend his? He didn’t know. 

He buried his face in the crook of Sanghyuk’s neck, not overly caring too much about the fact that they were both still covered in grime. He only managed to justify it to himself because he had almost been obliterated by a piece of machinery and a twenty foot drop. Sanghyuk didn’t seem to mind, either.

The chainlink fence rattled and he could feel Sanghyuk tense against him, his whole body going rigid. Jaehwan turned out of curiosity, only to see— 

“Is this seriously why you weren’t replying to my texts?” called Hongbin from down below, looking like he just ran through a forest then subsequently got swept up by a tornado. His hair was askew and his red flannel was covered in dead leaves and thistles. A new scratch had appeared on his face, still obviously fresh. 

Sanghyuk tried his best to very subtly move away from Jaehwan, like they were just sharing a very platonic moment between two friends. Jaehwan saw the knowing gleam in Hongbin’s eyes knew that he would never hear the end of this from him. “It’s a long story,” said Jaehwan. He had enough strength to teleport both of them the short distance back onto the ground. 

Sanghyuk grumbled under his breath about how Jaehwan couldn’t keep doing that without warning. But mostly, he was trying his very best to keep a cool front as Wonsik joined Hongbin soon after with a familiar looking animal in his arms. “Isn’t that the cat we saved from earlier?” he asked.

“Small world,” Jaehwan remarked wryly, holding his injured hand gingerly. 

Hongbin noticed immediately, honing in with a doting swiftness that Hakyeon surely would have been proud of, “Why is it that when I leave you unsupervised, you two are always getting into trouble?” He ignored Wonsik’s struggle with the antsy kitten and came over to inspect Jaehwan’s wound, “This’ll become infected if we don’t take care of it right away when we get back.”

“I’m fine,” said Jaehwan, even as Hongbin conjured a water bottle and some spare cloth from the Odyssey. Jaehwan tried his best not to pull away when Hongbin ran the water over his wound and wrapped it quickly to staunch the bleeding. 

“You’re not, you need to get up to the laboratory as soon as we get back to the Odyssey,” Hongbin chided. 

“What’s with the cat?” Sanghyuk asked. 

“It’s Hongbin’s,” said Wonsik sullenly, now holding the cat away at arm’s length, narrowly avoiding a paw to the face. 

“We have a cat?” asked Jaehwan, genuinely confused.

“No, you dumbass, this is the friend that I was looking for,” said Hongbin, patting the animal on the head, “They’re my mother’s favorite animal. Unlike the rest of you, I still keep in regular contact with my parents. Hecate once assumed the form of a cat to escape Typhon and after that, she’s always extended protection to them. This one’s just special and— it’s also exceedingly intelligent. It knows where the stash of ambrosia and nectar are. My mother just wanted me to stop by and make sure that she was doing well.” 

Jaehwan looked slowly between the cat, then Hongbin, then back to the cat, “So you’re telling me that we came all the way out to this godforsaken town to check up on a cat?” 

“This one’s special,” Wonsik reminded him. 

Jaehwan had never felt so defeated.

“Well, I still think that it was for a good cause,” piped up Sanghyuk. 

Jaehwan groaned.  
— 

The air was tinged with the sharp, woody scent of yarrow, but Sanghyuk had been able to clean and dress most of the cat’s wounds while avoiding gaining any himself. It turned out that Sanghyuk was indeed telling the truth when he claimed to both be good with animals and he did end up learning a thing or two about herbal medicine in his childhood. 

“I just don’t think it was worth it to almost die over a cat,” Jaehwan said, leaning against the wall, watching him with very little interest, “No offense.” 

“Yeah, well, when I said cut the wires, that wasn’t what I had in mind,” Sanghyuk pointed out, cradling the kitten to his chest and heading down the stairs, “Is your hand feeling better?” 

“Nothing a little ambrosia can’t fix,” he said. 

“Lucky,” said Sanghyuk, “It was your right hand too, wasn’t it? Wouldn’t want to lose your one and only sexual partner.” 

Jaehwan scowled at him, “I take offense to that.” 

“I’m not wrong am I?” Sanghyuk said casually as they made their way through the Odyssey. The other four had gone to sleep long before they had. Jaehwan had a feeling that his sleeping schedule wouldn’t even be so fucked up had it not been for the switching in rooming situations giving him a roommate that just never seemed to need to rest. “You had your room to yourself for a pretty long time. I’m pretty sure that you did not spend all of your time in there being an intellectual and— reading or whatever it is you’re about to convince me that you did.” 

That felt so long ago but when Jaehwan thought back he realized that, yeah, pretty much. All he did was play video games and, well, masturbate. In his defense, Hongbin had cast silencing spells on all three bedrooms, so. 

“You know me so well,” he said drily. Sanghyuk crouched down and let the kitten go. As soon as its paws touched the ground, it bolted away from the strange humans that probably felt more than a little bit funny with each having their own particular brand of magic. 

Crickets chirped in the undergrowth, watching the kitten scamper back into the old town. Even though they were on the outskirts of it, Jaehwan couldn’t quite shake the feeling that they might be haunted in the middle of the night due to an errant ghost. The last of its orange tabby tail disappeared into the shadows of the old movie theater and left them in the light of the open Odyssey’s door. 

There was always something about the night that made everything softer, more intimate. Jaehwan wished, for a moment, that everything could have been more romantic. If he had it his way, he would have met Sanghyuk as he passed through their store. He would have been able to show him the fireflies in June and the creekbed in the fall. But it hadn’t happened that way.

Circumstance threw them together and Jaehwan felt that it was awfully unfortunate that he met Sanghyuk now when he had his own death looming over him. If only, if only, if only he had— 

_Just a little while longer_. 

“I was kidding, actually,” Sanghyuk corrected him, inspecting his sleeves for stray cat hair, “Has it really been that long since you’ve dated someone?” 

“It’s—” Jaehwan hesitated, wondering just how to phrase it, “It has been a while. I have grown a bit— jaded.”

They walked back into the warmth of the van’s living room, the door sliding slowly shut behind them. Sanghyuk gave him a look that was near suspicious, “What’s changed your mind now?” 

Jaehwan hesitated. He thought that this was quite a loaded question, but Sanghyuk wasn’t really the type of person to shy away from those. He had words in his mind but he felt like he could never share them out loud. He changed his mind because his relatively peaceful life had been turned into a storm that consumed him from inside out and when he was with Sanghyuk, he felt like he stood in the eye of the hurricane. “I don’t know,” he answered, with caution. “Is that what this is? We’re—” he felt foolish, “You want this? You want a— relationship? I don’t know if I have much to give.” 

Sanghyuk frowned a little, “I don’t want for anything, Jae.” The use of a nickname in such a casual way warmed Jaehwan’s heart unexpectedly. Sanghyuk grabbed his wrists lightly and pulled him in closer, his forehead pressing against his. “You’re ridiculously argumentative and sometimes amazingly stupid but—” He cut Jaehwan off before he had the chance to protest and defend himself, “But just know that I already like you just as you are.” 

Jaehwan wished that his heart would stop feeling so heavy. He found it hard to look away when Sanghyuk’s eyes pinned him to the spot. “I—” he laughed a little, his expression half self deprecating and half wry, “But I want to give you everything. You deserve— you deserve someone who will make your life whole and I don’t know if my heart is full enough to share with you.” 

Sanghyuk sighed with an expression that couldn’t be described in any other way than fond, “You think too much.”

“I can not help it,” he said quietly, his heart hammering in his chest as Sanghyuk’s lips brushed across his in the barest of touches. 

“Don’t think, then,” said Sanghyuk, releasing Jaehwan’s wrist and intertwining their fingers instead, “Just let me kiss you.” 

He wanted to say no, to stop this before it was too late and Jaehwan was well and truly gone. Instead, he opened his mouth and out came, “Yes.” 

Jaehwan tensed, his whole body freezing up, expecting rushed and fast because Sanghyuk was simply like that. He took and Jaehwan gave. Instead, Sanghyuk just leaned down, kissing him gently. It was the kind of kiss that traveled from head to toe, and he melted into it, feeling the resistance bleed out from him. 

He yielded under the sweet feeling of Sanghyuk’s mouth against his. Maybe he was being a little too easy. Slowly, slowly, Sanghyuk backed them up, distracting him with long and lingering kisses. He knew where this was going. They were heading toward the bedroom. 

The door had been left open from before and they stumbled into bed. Sanghyuk boxed him in, the solid weight of his body on top of Jaehwan’s, as he kissed him again and again. Jaehwan felt light headed, like he could survive off of this alone, yearning and chasing for the feeling of Sanghyuk’s lips on his. 

Jaehwan felt so vulnerable like this, it felt too intimate, as if Sanghyuk could pry all of his secrets away from the walls around his heart and Jaehwan would let him. This was ridiculous. It wasn’t as if he was some kind of blushing virgin and spread out over many years of being alive, he was quite sure that he had more experience than Sanghyuk. 

And yet, as Sanghyuk pulled his sweatshirt off and over his head, Jaehwan was left trembling slightly on the bed and not simply because of the cold. Sanghyuk’s hand traveled down his chest, and Jaehwan’s eyes went hooded as his hand traveled down, catching on the waistband of his denim jeans. Uncharacteristically, he hesitated. 

“You’re nervous,” said Sanghyuk. It was almost a question. “If you don’t want to do this, Jae, it’s fine with me.” 

“No,” he replied quickly. He still wanted. He definitely wanted this. “It’s just—” He fumbled a little, searching for an excuse that seemed more plausible than the fact that yes, Jaehwan was nervous. Because after this, there was no way he could go back to simply pretending that Sanghyuk was nothing more than a passing infatuation. He bit down on his lower lip, looking up at Sanghyuk, “You were right. It has been— quite some time since I’ve had a lover.” 

Something clicked in Sanghyuk’s eyes, then. “Ah,” he said simply. Everything slowed down, then. Sanghyuk moved with a modicum of hesitation, dropping his head and taking Jaehwan’s hand, bringing it up to his lips. He kissed the swell of his thumb, kissing his palm, his index finger, finally his knuckles. “You can trust me, can’t you?” An invitation. “You want this as much as me, I know you do.” He meets Jaehwan’s eyes, sucking lightly at just the tips of his fingers, expression coy. Jaehwan jerked his hand away involuntarily and Sanghyuk’s smirk only widened. 

“Do not tease me. I— do not think that I can bear it.”

“Would you tell me to stop?” Sanghyuk asked, dragging the zipper down agonizing slow as he slid Jaehwan’s jeans off of his slender legs. 

Damn him. Sanghyuk full well knew what his answer was going to be. “No.” 

The drag of cotton on his skin is near torturous as Sanghyuk drags his underwear off, leaving it somewhere on the floor. Then he was there, in between Jaehwan’s legs, kissing and nipping at his inner thighs, sucking on the skin there. Jaehwan carded his hand through Sanghyuk’s hair. _Fondly_. He was already halfway to hard before he was naked but with the added prospect of Sanghyuk sucking him off, he was aching for any kind of simulation. “Sanghyuk—” he whined, tilting his hips upwards to get his point across. 

Sanghyuk pinned his hips down. “You’re so impatient,” he said and Jaehwan’s cheeks flushed, his pulse hammering. He felt like he was being scolded. Jaehwan couldn’t have come up with a retort if he wanted to because firstly, it was true, and secondly, he shut up rather quickly Sanghyuk took Jaehwan into his mouth.

Jaehwan thought that Sanghyuk took a perverse pleasure in this: watching Jaehwan squirm on the bed, back arching ever so slightly and his legs spreading unconsciously. “Fuck,” he breathed, his thighs trembling as Sanghyuk took him in deeper, his inexperience betraying him when he gagged on Jaehwan’s cock in his mouth. He hadn’t been lying when he said that it had been quite awhile. 

Sanghyuk made up for his lack of experience with sheer enthusiasm, moaning in his low voice that made Jaehwan’s stomach swoop. “Ah, fuck, Sanghyuk—” he panted, his hands fisted in the sheets so as to not risk messing up Sanghyuk’s hair, “Yes, like that, keep going.” 

He pulled off Jaehwan’s cock with a wet noise, his lips shining wet with saliva. Sanghyuk looked more amused than anything when Jaehwan groaned, throwing his head theatrically backwards. “Are you always this noisy?” 

“Yes,” he answered bluntly. 

Sanghyuk laughed at that, dragging his fingernails down the inside of Jaehwan’s inner thigh just to see him tremble and spread his legs further apart. “You’re so sensitive,” he marveled, a quiet observation. 

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” said Sanghyuk, “I think I like it.” He kissed the head of Jaehwan’s cock, sucking at the tip before he moved up his body, kissing a trail up his navel and his soft stomach. “I like this, trying to figure you out.”

“What is there to figure out?”

“There’s plenty,” Sanghyuk’s hands brushed over his nipples, “For starters, what it takes to reduce you into an incoherent, moaning mess.” 

“And how long have you been wanting to do that?” 

“A couple of days after I realized that you weren’t an evil entity.”

“No,” said Jaehwan. A playful denial. 

“You,” Sanghyuk kissed him, “Have been haunting my thoughts since the day we first met.” Sanghyuk took his own shirt off, obliging Jaehwan with quite a view of his broad shoulders and even broader chest. “Don’t think I could get you out of my head if I tried.” Sanghyuk loosened his belt, unfastening the buckle with a metallic _clink_. The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet of the room, just the two of them. 

After that night on the Odyssey’s roof, Jaehwan had often wondered if Sanghyuk thought of him as often as he thought of Sanghyuk. He had his answer now and the thought of it threatened to turn Jaehwan’s insides into liquid. How often, then had he woken up hard, thinking of Jaehwan? Had he lain awake, too, staring at the ceiling and wondering what it would feel like if they kissed? 

“You have a scar here,” Sanghyuk remarked, fingers tracing across a jagged pink line across his chest. Knife wound.

“Got into some trouble a few years back,” he said, “Does that surprise you?”

“Not in the slightest,” said Sanghyuk, ducking his head. They were kissing again but it lacked much finesse this time around. Jaehwan moaned lewdly into his mouth, grinding upwards, seeking the friction and release that Sanghyuk had so rudely denied him of earlier. 

Jaehwan turned away and Sanghyuk blinked, a little bemused. “The— lube’s in the drawer.” 

“Someone was optimistic.”

“Not optimistic, just prepared,” Jaehwan shot back. 

“Right,” said Sanghyuk, pulling Jaehwan closer by the back of his knees, coating his fingers generously with the lube. 

Jaehwan expected slow and gentle.

Then, Sanghyuk surprised him by two fingers into his ass. Jaehwan cried out, twitching weakly on the bed. It hurt, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. But then his own body betrayed him by getting even harder. His breath left him in little pants as he lifted his hips off the bed. Sanghyuk was very quickly keying into what turned him on and Jaehwan wasn’t entirely sure if this was a good or bad thing, especially when Sanghyuk’s fingers fucked into him with little disregard. 

Jaehwan let out a ragged moan as he forced himself to relax but there would always be a part of him that liked the pain, craved for it. “I think I like you like this,” Sanghyuk said conversationally, as if he wasn’t currently slowly pulling Jaehwan to pieces with his fingers alone, “You’re very— you’re breathtaking when you’re like this.” 

_Breathtaking_. 

Jaehwan had expected _pretty_. Because he knew that with his narrow waist and slim build, he was _pretty_ and not _handsome_. Sanghyuk’s words made him flush, the tips of his ears going red hot. He wondered if there would ever come a day when Sanghyuk would stop surprising him. 

Sanghyuk’s fingers moved harder, faster, stretching him open as he sucked on his nipples, not relenting even as Jaehwan began to squirm and thrash on the bed. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to arch into the heat of Sanghyuk’s mouth or away from his fingers, buried three deep and relentlessly teasing, curling in just the right way, “Sanghyuk, please, please— oh, fuck— “ 

Sanghyuk stopped completely, pulling away. Jaehwan was left, shivering, panting. “Not yet,” he chided, hand flat on Jaehwan’s chest, holding him down. 

“You will be the death of me,” complained Jaehwan weakly, feeling awfully light headed. 

He twisted to watch Sanghyuk settle in between his legs. Sanghyuk pushed in slowly, setting all of his nerves alight. Jaehwan’s legs bracketed Sanghyuk’s hips loosely and he couldn’t help the little noise he made, somewhere in between a whimper and a sigh. 

Jaehwan’s hands reached up, grabbing at Sanghyuk’s shoulders, exhaling a shaky breath as sweat beaded on his forehead. “Move,” he demanded, “I want to _come_ , you bastard.” 

Sanghyuk did just that, fucking into him just a little too roughly, causing Jaehwan to cry out, scratching down Sanghyuk’s muscled arms. He felt so— _full_. Like his heart was going to burst out of his chest any moment. “You’re still so talkative,” Sanghyuk said. 

Jaehwan’s reply was lost with a whimper as Sanghyuk set an unforgiving pace. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t— think. His cock twitched against his stomach. He was achingly hard now and he thought that he was lucky to have even lasted this long without losing control, especially when every time Sanghyuk thrust into him, he could feel his cock leaking, pre-cum smearing messily. 

Sanghyuk nosed up his jawline, nipping at his earlobe. Jaehwan trembled. He felt like Sanghyuk was raring to tear him apart at the seams. He moaned, burying his face in the crook of Sanghyuk’s neck instead, eyes shut tightly as he fucked in harder, further. 

Then, Sanghyuk shifted on the bed, hooking Jaehwan’s legs over his shoulder. He gave no warning before sliding in again. Jaehwan felt him even deeper this time, and he sobbed, the sound marred by helpless pleasure. He couldn’t _think_ anymore. Jaehwan struggled to get some leverage but found none. Jaehwan threw his head back onto the pillow, dark hair fanning out against white. 

Jaehwan couldn’t help his own wrecked moans and he shivered at Sanghyuk’s deep baritone voice murmuring his name. “Gonna come,” said Sanghyuk thickly, leaning down to kiss Jaehwan again, their noses bumping messily before they got it right. It was barely any warning because Sanghyuk came a second after with a soft, breathy moan, hips flush against Jaehwan’s. 

The room felt more humid than before, or maybe that was just the slickness of Sanghyuk’s skin against his. Sanghyuk remained buried in him for what felt like just a moment just too long and Jaehwan felt— filthy with Sanghyuk’s come in his ass. Jaehwan blinked blearily up at the ceiling, his gaze glassy and unfocused. 

Sanghyuk pulled out slowly then he replaced his cock with his fingers again. Jaehwan whimpered, his legs trembling as Sanghyuk fucked his own come back into him, his other hand wrapping around Jaehwan’s cock, the friction making his hips buck up. “Oh fuck,” he cried out, his voice hoarse, “Sanghyuk, Sanghyuk— oh God, please, please— “ 

Jaehwan brought his hand up, biting down on his own wrist to muffle his moans when he came with an intensity that left him shuddering on the bed, feeling completely and utterly spent. In the wake of everything, the room was left in silence, filled with the sound of their combined ragged breathing. Jaehwan’s heart pounded in his chest like he had just run a marathon without a chance to catch his breath but still, he felt overly warm yet comfortably satiated. He didn’t so much care about the fact that they were both still covered in sweat and should probably really shower when he just wanted to flop over and fall asleep. 

When Sanghyuk left suddenly to head toward the bathroom, Jaehwan automatically assumed, with a hollow sort of feeling in his chest, that he had done something wrong, had disappointed him somehow. He closed his eyes and mentally counted upward to ten. It was understandable, he told himself, that Sanghyuk would have realized in the middle of sex that he had changed his mind about the whole thing. 

But then he came back with towels instead and a new pair of underwear. Jaehwan’s heart picked up an unsteady rhythm. He wasn’t sure if he had ever believed in the whole adage of butterflies in your stomach but in the moment, he certainly did. Jaehwan wondered if the aftermath always felt like this: more painstakingly sweet and intimate than having sex. 

Jaehwan batted weakly at Sanghyuk’s shoulders until he left and came back dressed in a loose white band shirt and shorts. 

When Sanghyuk returned, Jaehwan reached out blearily for his hand. He brought it up to his lips and kissed it. Everything felt hazy, soft, like a scene lit by candlelight. “We’re not being lazy,” Jaehwan mumbled, seemingly to himself, “We can take a shower in the morning.” 

Sanghyuk reached out and twisted his ear, the gesture equal parts playful and affectionate. “Don’t you feel gross falling asleep like this?” Jaehwan’s heart ached. Oh, his voice was so fond.

“I’ll care tomorrow,” Jaehwan mumbled, pressing a kiss to Sanghyuk’s neck, “Just stay with me. A little while longer.” 

Sanghyuk looked torn between dragging Jaehwan with him to the bathroom anyways and just acquiescing to his desire to sleep as well. Eventually, Jaehwan helped him make his decision by pulling him closer, hiding his face in the crook of his neck, arms wrapping around Sanghyuk’s larger torso. 

“Oh fine,” said Sanghyuk, defeated, “A little while longer, then.” 

For how tired his body was, his mind refused to rest. Sanghyuk even fell asleep before him, heavy breathing disrupting Jaehwan’s already messed up hair. 

Jaehwan fumbled for his phone on the nightstand, setting an alarm for tomorrow morning. He was alone in the night, the only conscious soul in the room. He felt oddly disconnected from the world, during the nebulous insomnia hours between midnight and dawn.

Realization: Jaehwan wasn’t just in danger of falling in love. At the rate things were going, he was already more than halfway there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -If I did chapter summaries it would have either been "Jaehwan and Sanghyuk are (definitely not) falling in love" or my personal favorite, "Sanghyuk fucks the will to live out of Jaehwan"  
> -I guess this technically makes the fic explicit now but also here's your Hyuken enjoy it while you can  
> -Yell at me on [twitter](twitter.com/jaehwandred) or [tumblr](chanstraeus.tumblr.com)  
> -I'm starved for validation and I deeply appreciate each comment and kudos!


	11. Chapter 11

The stars twinkled above them, diamonds sewn into the rich tapestry of night. The soft fleece of the blanket underneath their backs was doing very little for warmth, but it beat laying on the Odyssey’s cold, metal roof. With a full stomach, Jaehwan had been able to convince Sanghyuk to join him beneath the stars and he was glad he did. 

He never wanted to move from this moment when he could have this forever instead. Sanghyuk curled into Jaehwan’s side, pointing indiscriminately into the night sky. “You’re supposed to be smart, aren’t you?” he asked, lips brushing against the shell of Jaehwan’s ear. “Tell me a story.” 

“Supposed to be smart?” Jaehwan turned his head to squint at him, “I _am_ intelligent. Why should I tell you a story when all you do is wound me?” 

“Because it’s very easy to get you to talk,” said Sanghyuk, laughing at Jaehwan’s expression because he knew that he was right. 

Jaehwan sighed. 

He didn’t know the legends as well as Sanghyuk presumed him to. He had never really been one to take to the books with a fervor for learning such as Hongbin did. But Jaehwan knew a thing or two. Jaehwan grew up with these myths, after all. They were his heritage. “What do you want to know?” 

Sanghyuk shrugged, “Whichever one you want to tell me about.” 

Jaehwan made a little noise of assent, taking in the sight of the constellations above them. He had never been very good at identifying them right away and even when their tutor tried to get both him and Taekwoon to take a greater interest in Astrology, they always ended up skipping class and going down to the beach to play. He remembered, with a jolt of deja vu, a night like this shared with Taekwoon. 

He hadn’t remembered feeling like this, though. With Taekwoon, it always felt like a hollow, gnawing feeling at his heart. He ached, yearned, for Taekwoon to look at him, to listen to him for once. Everything with Sanghyuk was still so familiar, yet so— different. 

“Aquila,” Jaehwan finally said, tracing the geometric lines of the constellation with his finger, “It almost looks like a kite. Do you see it?”

“No,” said Sanghyuk bluntly. 

Jaehwan rolled his eyes, though he knew that Sanghyuk couldn’t see it. “He was Zeus’ messenger. The bird that carried Zeus’ thunderbolts, apparently.” 

“Were you thinking about Taekwoon?” inquired Sanghyuk, but there was no malice in the question. 

“Yes,” he said. 

“What were you thinking about?”

Jaehwan deliberated it for a moment before replying, his words weighted and slow, “How he is not you and you are not him.” 

“Is that a bad thing?” Sanghyuk asked and Jaehwan could hear the caution in his voice. 

Jaehwan’s words were stuck in his throat. Taekwoon and Sanghyuk were so vastly different from each other that he could never imagine Sanghyuk even trying to be anything like Taekwoon. He didn’t know how he could explain it all. How love was not something finite with a shelf life of a relationship. It never went away, not really, but Taekwoon had gone his own path and Jaehwan had his own now. “No, not at all,” he said, softly. “You are you and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Are you— upset that I still think about him?” 

Sanghyuk gave him an incredulous look, like the thought of him being mad over such a thing was preposterous. “No,” he said, “You are the fated twin souls. It would be like asking you to forget a part of yourself.” 

“I suppose,” mumbled Jaehwan sleepily. 

“Do you know the story of that one over there?”

“That one?” Jaehwan asked, pointing at it to confirm. When Sanghyuk nodded he said, “That’s the constellation of Gemini.” 

“Pretty sure I learned about this one in grade school,” said Sanghyuk. 

Jaehwan distantly wondered if Sanghyuk was as much of a demon child then as he was now. Then again, Hakyeon had once told him that when they were in middle school together, Sanghyuk was the top of their class. A studious kid, a bookworm with a heart of gold. How funny it was that someone like him ended up out here with the rest of them, chasing after old legends come alive. 

“They say that the constellation of Gemini immortalizes the soul of two twins. Castor and Pollux. Castor, the mortal one of the two, died in the Trojan War and his brother was so distraught over his death that he begged his father Zeus to make his brother immortal too,” Sanghyuk had gone suspiciously quiet, listening intently to his story, “They didn’t quite get that but— well, Zeus reunited their two souls in the heavens. So now we have—”  
Jaehwan stuttered to a stop when Sanghyuk suddenly kissed him, pressing their fronts together. His eyes fluttered shut as he kissed him back, tilting his head slightly to accommodate the awkward angle. 

When they pulled apart, Jaehwan took a moment to catch his breath again, “Why did you do that? I thought you wanted me to tell you a story.”

“I did,” reassured Sanghyuk, a smile tugging at his lips, “You just— I just— I got distracted.”

“By what?” asked Jaehwan, baffled.

“Do I need an excuse to kiss you?”

“No, but I’d just like to let you know that you are disgustingly romantic,” he said stoutly. 

Sanghyuk rolled over so that he was on top of Jaehwan, effectively pinning him under his weight. Jaehwan made a displeased noise, squirming, but he made no real effort to push him off. He liked this more than he would admit, anyways. He could feel the heat of Sanghyuk’s body even through their clothing and when Sanghyuk made enough an effort not to suffocate him, Jaehwan could get used to the feeling of getting smothered by him. It all felt positively domestic. 

“I am not,” he denied, carding a hand through Jaehwan’s hair, “You, on the other hand, seem like a hopeless romantic.” 

Jaehwan smiled up at him, a little crooked and endearingly lopsided, “Maybe you have turned me into one.” 

“See?” Sanghyuk laughed softly, “That’s what I mean.” 

“Is it a bad thing?” 

“No,” Sanghyuk shook his head, gazing at Jaehwan with an unreadable expression, “Definitely not.” 

The night lay upon them with a quiet calm. The moon was waning, a cold and distant entity. Sanghyuk’s hand was flat on his chest and he traced nonsensical patterns on his skin, ruffling the soft fabric of his shirt. “You seem so shy about your body, sometimes,” Sanghyuk said, “Why?” 

Jaehwan shifted uncomfortably beneath him, his own eyes bright in the illumination of the cosmos. “It’s—” he wondered if he would ever be prepared for the way that Sanghyuk so often brought up questions completely out of left field. It seemed that it was only natural for Sanghyuk to be able to always leave his head spinning. “I think that I’m too skinny and I was never really— I have a lot of scars and I was never—” 

Sanghyuk let out a breath that was halfway between laughter and a sigh, “You are ridiculous if you think that you are any less attractive for it.”

He slid a hand beneath Jaehwan’s shirt and he shivered, arching away from the touch, “It’s cold, you asshole—” 

“Shh,” Sanghyuk held a finger up to Jaehwan’s lips silencing him. Sanghyuk’s hand was fever warm on Jaehwan’s goosebump cold skin as he lifted Jaehwan’s shirt up, exposing his flat stomach, his ribcage. Across his pale skin criss crossed long faded scars, each of them with a story, and some more foolish than others. There had been the time he tried to help Hongbin with the rabid wererabbit and nearly lost his arm in the process. Then there was the time he and had been at a gas station at god knows what hour in the middle of the night. It was never the safest place for a woman to be, because, well, most gas stations at shady hours of the night weren’t safe places for anyone to be. Jaehwan was so drunk that he completely forgot that he was a demigod with perfectly functioning weapons and he got into a fist fight with a knife wielding robber. He won in the end, at least. In retrospect, he was very lucky that there was no one else on the road while he was driving.

Then there were still the memories that stuck with him, haunting his dreams. The time he and Hongbin got into a fight so terrible, it almost ended in the death of their friendship. And the Empusa— well, actually, that one was mostly his fault.

Sanghyuk just traced over the jagged lines and clean pink cuts, fingertips skating across his skin. Jaehwan felt as if Sanghyuk could see through him, could see and feel and know the stories that were interlaced and embedded into his skin. _Vulnerable_. That was coming to feel like a second nature emotion around Sanghyuk. He wasn’t quite sure if he liked it.

“You have constellations,” Sanghyuk murmured, connecting the scars with his touch. 

“Do I?” 

“Yes,” said Sanghyuk decisively, placing his hand over Jaehwan’s beating heart. “You have— the soul of stars. You have a spirit that lights people up from the inside.” 

“As do you,” said Jaehwan. 

His heart beat an unsteady beat and it ached, his heart ached. How ironic it was that Jaehwan had spent so many years, so many lifetimes in limbo. He had stayed alive only because he was afraid of death, not because he had any real will to live. And now just as the clock was ticking down, Jaehwan wondered if this was it. If this was the universe playing one last dirty trick on him and giving him a reason. 

Sanghyuk kissed his scars, his marks, his imperfections. When he brought the hem of Jaehwan’s shirt back down again to cover his torso, Jaehwan found himself shivering because of the way that Sanghyuk kissed him. It was slow and deep, making him forget everything but Sanghyuk’s name. 

_This_ , thought Jaehwan, _this and this and this._

These were the precious memories that would keep him alive. And they were the ones that he would take with him to the grave.

— 

It was a very poorly concealed secret that Jaehwan had a new paramour. 

Jaehwan was now much more interested in rolling around in bed with said new paramour than producing meals. It was never his obligation in the first place but they had all grown complacent when Jaehwan always volunteered. 

It was a bit of a surprise, then, when Taekwoon walked into the kitchen first thing in the morning to see Jaehwan at the stove, a recipe pulled up on his phone screen and the kitchen sink left haphazardly running behind him. Jaehwan’s small frame was practically drowned in the oversized shirt he was wearing, very likely pilfered from Sanghyuk’s closet. 

Taekwoon made no effort to dampen his footsteps as he entered, not wanting to spook Jaehwan into summoning a skeleton army. He turned the water off, faucet squeaking obnoxiously. 

He saw Jaehwan’s shoulders stiffen involuntarily, his motions becoming choppy as he turned the heat higher. The quiet was awkward, to say the least. Taekwoon had always been very good at botching important social situations. Jaehwan had once jokingly told him that he was much more fit to hack and slash his way out of any and all of life’s problems but looking back on it, the words retained some truth to them.

Jaehwan said nothing as he piled the pancakes into a heaping stack on the porcelain plate. He turned toward the refrigerator, determinedly not making eye contact with Taekwoon, “Why are you up so early?” His tone was not friendly.

Taekwoon thought that the answer was obvious. He shifted his weight, folding his arms across his chest, “I was going to make breakfast,” he said, his voice clipped and matter-of-fact. Jaehwan didn’t deign him with a reply. 

“I thought you’d be spending time with Sanghyuk,” said Taekwoon, his voice quiet. He didn’t even think it was possible for Jaehwan to look even more tense but he managed it. For all that Jaehwan was usually easy to read, sometimes navigating around his short fuse of a temper felt like a puzzle. Say the wrong thing and he would clam up and ignore you for days, say another wrong thing and he would explode outward. It felt like it took a linguist to solve the various conversational pathways without setting anything off. He wondered how Sanghyuk did it. Actually, he wondered how he ever did it. 

Or, maybe he hadn’t and Jaehwan was just much better at hiding his hurt back then. 

“How is Sanghyuk?” he asked, venturing out on a limb again.

“What about him?” Jaehwan asked, nearly snapping. 

“You have been spending a lot of time with him.” 

“Yes,” said Jaehwan, “We’re friends, after all. Are we not?” His smile was brittle. 

Taekwoon raised an eyebrow, “Is that what you two are? Friends?”

“Yes,” Jaehwan set the plate of pancakes on the dinner table, heading back to grab the bottle of off brand maple syrup. 

“You have never been shy about your crushes,” he said, trying to at least be helpful by bringing out the silverware. “Do you remember the girl from the village? You talked my ear off for a week about how she was the fairest girl you had seen.”

“I remember,” snapped Jaehwan, setting his mug of coffee down on the countertop harder than usual. Drops of the scalding hot liquid leapt out from Jaehwan’s tacky Disney mug, pooling on the white tiled countertop. “Taekwoon, we both know that you don’t really care about me or Sanghyuk. What is this about?” 

Taekwoon blinked, slow and cat-like. “Would you call me a liar for truly wondering how you are faring?” 

“Yes,” he sneered, “What ulterior motive are you holding now?” 

“None,” retorted Taekwoon, feeling the vague sort of annoyance that always seemed to come from trying to reach out to Jaehwan. It was hard to remember why he tried at all anymore. Jaehwan was so insistent on blaming only him and was too far absorbed in his own struggles to even look Taekwoon’s way. He wondered if it was so wrong to want to find some semblance of peace between them after so much time had passed. There had to still be something between them that still allowed them to fall into perfect harmony in combat, there was still something that drew them to each other no matter how hard Jaehwan pretended that it didn’t exist. “Am I not allowed to inquire after someone who so obviously makes you happy?” 

Jaehwan stared at him with the unnerving intensity of someone who held a storm in his eyes. His once best friend had become an intimidating force in his own right. And he felt so unknowable, so foreign. The last time Taekwoon had seen him this happy was the last time that he had been able to make him happy. 

All of their joyful memories together now felt like they were tinted only with the rosy haze of nostalgia. He remembered days spent in the palace’s orchard on horseback like he could only capture them in the blurry snapshot qualities of polaroid pictures. Those were his last memories of Jaehwan, anyways. But Jaehwan had lifetimes and many years in between them to forget. And to be haunted night and day by the ghosts of his past. 

Taekwoon realized, then, just how large the gap between them was. With every conversation they had, the breach was looking more and more impossible to bridge. 

“Is this some— warped attempt of friendship again?” Jaehwan guessed and the derisive tone of his voice made Taekwoon bristle. “There is nothing between us anymore. I will tolerate you and your existence but let me make it clear that we are not on friendly terms.” 

“There’s nothing between us?” Taekwoon asked, “The prophecy—” 

“Says nothing about us having to get along,” Jaehwan snapped, “The prophecy does not dictate how I choose to view you. The rest of them may be able to forgive you for all that you did while working for Gaea but our scars run deeper than that. It is not so easy to forget.” 

Jaehwan’s expression hardened and it seemed like there was nothing that Taekwoon could do to change his mind. Though, he admitted, at least this time Jaehwan hadn’t lashed out with any of his powers. That could prove disastrous in such a small space. He probably just didn’t want to ruin his pile of perfect pancakes. 

That was fair. 

The door swung open and both of them jumped, not expecting anyone else to walk in.

Sanghyuk froze in the doorway, droopy eyes and dark circles betraying his lack of sleep. His gaze darted quickly between Jaehwan and Taekwoon, quickly trying to assess the situation. 

They were stuck at an impasse. Jaehwan was rather visibly angry, fists curled by his side and his jaw clenched so hard Taekwoon wouldn’t be surprised if he gave himself a headache. He was well aware of his own personal penchance of rarely betraying his mood. Taekwoon’s expression remained artfully blank. 

Sanghyuk sighed, closing his eyes for a brief second. Then, he strolled past the two of them to the fridge as if nothing was wrong. “Well, geesh, good morning to you guys too,” he grumbled, rummaging through the fridge for who knows what. 

Jaehwan visibly relaxed, now, with the mere presence of Sanghyuk in the room. He rolled his eyes, perhaps in response to Sanghyuk’s too chipper morning mood. It was almost strange to see Jaehwan’s bad mood roll off his shoulders. It was just around Taekwoon that he became a noxious cloud of foul energy. It never seemed to be that way when he was around anyone else in their little makeshift group. 

He turned tail and left, feeling more frustrated with himself and Jaehwan than he had in weeks.

Taekwoon glanced out the window. Mid-morning, then, judging by the low height of the sun’s trajectory. Hakyeon would be awake soon. So would Hongbin and Wonsik. He rubbed at his eyes, feeling pressure mounting in his head. His pace quickened, long legs carrying him across the living room. The van’s door slid open, painfully slow. For a top of the line minivan, it sure was rather inconvenient to have a power operated sliding door. 

The breath of fresh air was like nature’s gentle kiss. Taekwoon didn’t know how the others could spend so long in the Odyssey in such close proximity to each other without being completely drained of energy. He much preferred time to himself or time spent alone with Hakyeon to being in a state of constant socialization. It was exhausting. Even when he wasn’t actively socializing, it always felt like he had to be on guard, holding up some version of himself that wasn’t quite true.

The door behind him had just begun to close with a gentle hum when Sanghyuk walked out right after him, forcing the door to slide open again. Taekwoon fought very hard not to sigh. Had Jaehwan sent his new bodyguard to verbally chew him out? As far as he was concerned, their little dispute this morning was over and Taekwoon was more than happy to spend his morning alone. 

He paused, out of courtesy, to let Sanghyuk catch up with him. 

Taekwoon said nothing as he set off on the barely there path, leading into the nearby trees. The morning frost still clung to threadbare branches, gleaming crystals of water winking in the sunlight. Sanghyuk easily kept stride, his hands in his pockets, dressed in a casual plain hoodie. 

Just as their casual silence was beginning to border on awkward, Sanghyuk finally broke it by throwing an almost sheepish side glance in Taekwoon’s direction, his lips pressed together in a thin line, “Sorry about earlier I know that Jaehwan can be—” he sighed, “difficult.” 

“Mm,” Taekwoon wasn’t sure what else there was to say about that. He thought that was a given.

“What did you two talk about?” queried Sanghyuk. 

Taekwoon didn’t bother keeping the note of surprise out of his voice, “He did not tell you?” 

“Didn’t want to talk about it.” 

They stopped some ways out from the Odyssey. Its obnoxiously red exterior was still in view, but they were more than far enough for privacy. Sanghyuk, by the looks of it, was just starting to register that this was the first time he had ever been alone with Taekwoon and was just now beginning his calculations to gauge if this was, in fact, a good idea. Taekwoon turned and said primly, “You.” 

“Not talking shit about me, I hope,” said Sanghyuk. 

Taekwoon allowed himself a small smile as he shook his head, “No,” he said, “I was simply curious about your relationship but he became— defensive.” 

“He doesn’t think that you care for him. He thinks that you never cared for him,” Sanghyuk’s voice was almost accusing.

“I have never been good at showing my affections,” Taekwoon admitted, “I don’t think I’ve ever been very good at making him happy.” 

Sanghyuk shrugged, like Taekwoon’s words were just incidental. He kicked at the dead leaves on the ground, shoes scuffing over the frostbitten grass, “You must have done something right somewhere along the way.” 

Taekwoon scoffed audibly at that, “No, I’m afraid that I truly was a bit of an ass to him all that time. But you are different. I can see it.” Sanghyuk picked his head up, eyes gleaming with interest and a little bit of hope. “This isn’t just— this is not just a hookup, is it? I can understand searching for a port in the storm but with someone like him, I don’t think that would be fair—” 

He could sense the shift in Sanghyuk’s demeanor almost immediately. Sanghyuk narrowed his eyes, his words taut, “What kind of person do you think I am that I would take advantage of him and do something like that?” 

Taekwoon blinked rapidly, surprised, in spite of himself, by the ferocity of Sanghyuk’s protectiveness. He backpedaled as well as he could, “I was not trying to imply that— no, I— just never want to see him hurt by someone the way that I hurt him.” 

Sanghyuk frowned but the line of his shoulders softened. Just barely. But at least he hadn’t made the situation worse. Taekwoon continued, his tone soft but none the less sincere for it, “When Jaehwan falls in love, it is a very self destructive process. He would rather suffer through hell than see harm befall you in any fashion.” 

“He isn’t in love,” Sanghyuk said, sounding almost like he was trying to convince himself otherwise. 

Taekwoon chose not to say anything. 

Sanghyuk began to fidget, rubbing at the back of his neck, “Or, well— he’s an idiot if he is,” he said decisively as if that solved everything, “Hold on, why are you telling me all of this in the first place?” 

Taekwoon regarded him curiously. He thought Sanghyuk would simply take the possibility of a smitten Jaehwan as good news. But if he was as Taekwoon hoped he was, Sanghyuk wouldn’t take advantage of Jaehwan’s soft heart. He hoped. 

The wind reacted to his breath, a soft shaky exhale. The gales teased the treetops. “The Doors of Death were open to serve a nefarious purpose but I have to believe that I was brought back for a reason, don’t I? All those years ago, I died knowing that hero or not, I failed all of the people that mattered the most to me. My mother, my kingdom, and— Jaehwan.

“I’ve been thinking that if this is to be a second chance for me, I want to get it right this time. I can’t bring back my mother or my kingdom, obviously, but I can make things right with Jaehwan. Or, at the very least, I can try.” 

Sanghyuk looked at him with something close to pity. It made Taekwoon feel keenly off-kilter, as if Sanghyuk expected him to fail or like he thought Taekwoon was in the wrong for even hoping for reconciliation. He finally said, “Well,” the syllable was long and drawn out, “For the sake of all of us, I hope you succeed.” 

— 

When it was Hongbin’s turn to drive, every single encounter turned into an impromptu drag race. Bad driving habits seemed to run in their original little family back in Elysium Funeral Services, and only Wonsik was even half decent of a driver. Jaehwan leaned over the back of the couch, watching the world pass by. 

As their path took them further north, it became more evident that Gaea’s army had blazed that trail before them. One streetside motel was completely leveled, rubble and stone on the ground where it once stood, vacancy sign blinking wearily. A mile down the line, another ghost town with a crack running straight through, like the earth tore a rift in itself. They traveled too fast to get a good glimpse but Jaehwan was sure that he wasn’t imagining the monsters that disappeared into the heavy woods of the northern wilderness to wreck even further havoc. Not much could stop them, anyways. 

There was already a shortage of demigods in the world before there came the increased rate of monsters returning from Tartarus to haunt the humans that called this world their home. It seemed to be only a matter of time before enough monsters were able to amass the strength to rush through the Doors of Death and overrun the few demigods that were still able to hold them at bay.

It was a chilling prospect.

Someone let out a low whistle next to him, “Wasn’t so complicated when we were young,” observed Taekwoon, peering out the window as well. A horrid screech pierced the air from outside the metal confines of the car. A bird swooped by, metallic sharp wings barely missing the Odyssey, its beak a glittering a dangerous bronze. 

Jaehwan hadn’t seen Stymphalian birds in ages and he wasn’t glad to see them again. Nasty, annoying creatures who had gone after the farmhand peasants then proceeded to almost peck his eyes out. That was around the time where both him and Taekwoon were seriously considering picking up archery to avoid another repeat of the incident.

“That’s because we probably would have solved the problem before it got this big,” said Jaehwan, half jokingly. 

“This new generation of demigods has no idea how to do anything,” said Taekwoon in what could only be described as a melancholy fashion. 

Jaehwan was about to reply. But then he realized that if he did, he would be both sympathizing and commiserating with Jung Taekwoon and he wasn’t sure that he liked the thought of that. He remained quiet and luckily for him, Taekwoon chose not to press the point. Most days, it simply took less energy to pretend that he didn’t exist.

They remained there for quite some time, taking solace in the mesmerizing passage of land through the window. He could have moved or went to find Sanghyuk, but he didn’t. Jaehwan thought that just tolerating Taekwoon’s mere presence should earn him some kind of award, but the real world didn’t work like that. 

Taekwoon began to hum. Some light lyrical melody that he was sure he heard on the radio himself just a couple days back. For a reason that he couldn’t pinpoint, the quiet sound wrenched his already tired heart with nostalgia. It had been so long since he heard that delicate singing voice. He was sure that he would have caught more of it had he actually spent any time around Taekwoon, but standing next to him, the memories of singing together flooded back.

Jaehwan hadn’t even liked to sing before Taekwoon convinced him to try. He had wanted so badly to become proficient in the lyre but then Taekwoon had shown him the crisp, pure sound of two voices blending together in harmony.

Singing was still something he loved. From one lifetime to the next, it was one of the few things that remained constant. How ironic it was, he thought, that Taekwoon was the one who had gifted that to him. 

“Taek,” came a voice. It was Hakyeon. He hugged Taekwoon quickly from behind, wrapping his arms around his stomach in a tight and unrelenting hold, regardless of Jaehwan’s presence. Taekwoon scowled instead of getting embarrassed like a normal person. But then he ducked his head, his face out of view.

“Hey, I missed you,” said Hakyeon, with a voice sweet as honey. 

“I never left,” said Taekwoon, bemused. 

“No,” corrected Hakyeon, “I meant I just haven’t seen you all morning. You disappeared.” 

“Ah,” said Taekwoon simply. 

Jaehwan rolled his eyes, no longer leaning casually against the sofa. He stood up with more dramatic flourish than strictly necessary. “Oh spare me,” he drawled, “I will not be subjected to this— tomfoolery in communal living spaces.” 

“You know, you don’t have to be here,” retorted Hakyeon smartly. 

“I think that this counts as forcing me out,” Jaehwan replied drily, grabbing his phone from where it lay face down on the coffee table, “Hongbin is much better company than you two anyways.” 

For all that it bothered him to see affection between Hakyeon and Taekwoon, he at least acknowledged mentally that every time him and Sanghyuk were alone, he was just as obnoxious. The sad part was that it wasn’t even jealousy or anything even remotely close to it. It just felt— off to see Taekwoon with somebody. It was like watching a sibling bring home a new significant other and not really knowing how to react.

He regretted going barefoot on the cold metal stairs leading up to Hongbin’s laboratory, but it was always ridiculously stuffy in that room anyways. When he reached the top, Jaehwan realized belatedly that Hongbin was driving. His lack of sleep was starting to really catch up to him, he supposed. Jaehwan blinked blearily at Wonsik who looked surprised at the intrusion but not unhappy. 

“What’s up?” he asked, his deep voice refreshingly casual. Jaehwan wondered what it was about today that seemed so heavily rooted in nostalgia. The excitement of adventure and the thrill of something new around the corner was great and all but sometimes, he just missed home. He regretted taking for granted the days that consisted of only the three of them: Wonsik, Hongbin, and Jaehwan. His original little family. 

There were days, then, too, that he felt the outsider because of the inevitable feeling of being a third wheel. But that still didn’t change the fact that they were still his two best friends. “Escaping public displays of affection,” he said, leaning on the back of Wonsik’s chair and looking over his shoulder, “Wonsik? Reading? Look at you, being an intellectual.” 

“Are you implying something?” asked Wonsik, unfazed as he flipped the page.

“Not at all,” Jaehwan said breezily. 

“Have I told you recently that you have a bad habit of sticking your overly large nose into other people’s business?”

Jaehwan laughed at that, the feeling bright and bubbly, “You never let me forget,” he said. He looked down at the book at Wonsik’s hands, leather bound and with rich parchment. It looked to be the kind of book that would yellow with age but the colors on the page were bursting with vibrancy, old time dyes still showing their life. 

It was a book of monsters, complete with illustrations showing them in all of their grotesque glory. The creature on the page snarled at them, baring its teeth. It must have been Hongbin’s little trick to try and add some life into the book. The creature was some mangled hybrid of several creatures gone wrong. A lion with the head of a goat sprouting from its back like a cyst complete with a snake head tail. “Ha,” said Jaehwan, “It looks like you.” 

Wonsik laughed, the joke rolling off his shoulders, “Like you’re one to talk.” 

Jaehwan shrugged, the smile light on his lips, “Won’t argue with that,” he said, “What is this book for, anyways? I don’t think I’ve ever seen it.”

“It’s Hongbin’s,” explained Wonsik, “He’s been working on it to get the enchantment correct. It’s a monster tracker, kind of.” 

That piqued Jaehwan’s interest. He knew Hongbin’s interest in magic ran deep and spanned many different fields, but he had never done something like this. He moved closer, his fingers skirting the top of the pages. To his surprise, the pages felt— alive. The energy pervaded the book, feeling like a slow electrical hum underneath his skin as he turned the page. The monsters glared up at him, stuck in the confines of their own illustrations, ferocious personalities captured in miniature. Wonsik explained, “It feels weird, huh? It’s supposed to be more precise than this but the idea was to tap into the energies of every monster so we would know if they were close by or not. It’s obviously not done but there are a lot more out there than there should be.” 

“I see,” said Jaehwan, looking at the book now with closer scrutiny, “Any news, then, of the local monsters?” 

Wonsik hesitated just long enough for Jaehwan to know that Hongbin had probably warned him in advance that Jaehwan shouldn’t be informed of these things. But Wonsik also knew that Jaehwan could read him too well after years of living together, so it was a lost cause to try and evade him or else Jaehwan would simply just pester it from him with his favorite tactic of sheer annoyance. “There’s been plenty of news,” he said, then continued to elaborate, “Most of it, err, well, okay, all of it has been bad. You remember the town we passed through a couple of days ago?”

“Yeah,” Jaehwan lied. They all started to look the same after awhile. 

“Gorgon got a girl going out at night with her friends,” Wonsik said grimly, “Hongbin checked the local news and they got another one last night.” 

Jaehwan furrowed his brows, staring down at the book. “If you had told me, we could have gone back and taken care of it. And now these innocent people lost their lives?” 

“We can’t afford that kind of time, Jaehwan, and you know it,” reminded Wonsik gently. 

“If Thanatos is trapped, he’s not going anywhere any time soon and gods can’t die. We have time to send me and Taekwoon out to take care of these things you have no right to keep this kind of information from me,” he snapped. 

“Hongbin said that you’d say that,” Wonsik sighed, “Forget your hero complex for a second. Have you realized that even if you went back to try and kill them, it would be less than a week, maybe even a couple of days before they just rematerialized? Without the Doors of Death closed, nothing we do will make a difference.” 

Jaehwan glared, simply because Wonsik was right and he couldn’t say anything against it. But it still felt fundamentally wrong to be charging up north and ignoring all of the people left to fend against the mythological horrors that only demigods were equipped to deal with. 

Wonsik steered the subject away and broached an even worse one, “So, how are things with you and Taek?” 

“Why in the world would you ask that?”

Wonsik shrugged, “You mentioned him.” 

He blinked, “I did?” 

“You’re not at each other’s throats all the time now.” 

“Well, yes, because that would just be a waste of energy,” said Jaehwan. “The— Taekwoon that’s with us is still the one I knew from all those lifetimes ago. But he’s still changed. I don’t know if it’s because he’s living in modern times or if he’s making an effort to change.” There was a silence, a lull in his words. “Wonsik, do you think it’s wrong that I’m scared I won’t be able to hate him anymore? After all of this is done?” 

“What do you mean when all of this is over?” 

Jaehwan frowned, “I mean— just, he’s changing. I’d have to be blind to not notice that he’s trying.” 

Wonsik looked at him, without judgement. It was easy to talk to Wonsik like that; he was always understanding and ready to help. It set his heart at ease to know that if anything, Wonsik wouldn’t take his words outside of these walls. “Maybe you just feel like you need that anger to ground yourself,” he suggested, “It’s kind of like...well, what would your relationship be if you didn’t have that, right? It would feel wrong to just forgive and forget when what he did kind of fucked up your life.” 

“Yeah,” agreed Jaehwan hollowly, “I suppose.” 

He had never thought of it like that. Jaehwan just felt so— tired. That was the word. There were days that he wanted to look at Taekwoon and not feel like he was gearing up for battle but it was always difficult to let the opportunity for one just slide by. 

Jaehwan didn’t know how much of his own personality and life was shaped by Taekwoon but he was certain that Taekwoon left scars deeper than his outer ones. Taekwoon had cut his heart right open and hadn’t stayed around to mend it. He still remembered how absolutely bitter he felt when he realized that he simply wasn’t good enough for him. 

He was immature. He thought that if he gave his all to Taekwoon, he was in the right to expect something back. For how else could he explain the times when Taekwoon would look at him like he was the only person that mattered in the world? How else could he explain all of the times Taekwoon leapt in without hesitation to save his life over and over again? 

Jaehwan knew, without a doubt, that Taekwoon loved him. They just hadn’t loved each other in the same way. 

It hurt more to realize that they had lost all of that.

He was never jealous of Hakyeon and Taekwoon or of their relationship together. Jaehwan could be petty, but even that would be a ridiculous notion for him to want for something that would have never worked out. No, he was envious of the way Hakyeon brought out the best in Taekwoon that he never could. 

It always left him wondering, thinking, _What did I do wrong? What was wrong with me?_

But maybe Wonsik was right. Maybe it really was only anger that kept him rooted here, stuck in a vicious cycle of blaming himself and hating Taekwoon. He wondered if there even was a correct answer. 

Taekwoon was happier than he had ever known him. No matter what Taekwoon said, maybe the life of a demigod hero was never the right one for him. Even though they were currently on a quest, Taekwoon had no kingdom left to tend to when they returned. There were no kings and nobles vying for his favor and trying to pull him this way and that. There was, in fact, very little pressure to still keep a name for himself. As far as the world was concerned, Taekwoon was still dead. 

His father, Zeus, had been weirdly silent on the whole matter. He could only imagine that Taekwoon was very happy with that specific development. It was hard to live a life that was constantly under scrutiny through a magnifying glass. 

It was almost strange to see Taekwoon happy when so much of his previous life was spent laboring away to serve his legacy. Jaehwan had been spared of most of the spotlight and at the time, he was resentful, but in retrospect, he was glad of it. He could barely remember what Taekwoon was like before they set off adventuring together. His heart still ached for the Taekwoon that sought Jaehwan out as refuge from the storm of the world that raged around them. Maybe that was why Jaehwan fell in the first place. 

“You know, Jaehwan, you’ve changed too,” said Wonsik, breaking Jaehwan away from his stream of thoughts. 

“Really,” he said, monotone instead of a real question. 

“You let Sanghyuk in,” said Wonsik.

Jaehwan fought not to let anything show on his face. “I don’t think I had a choice,” he said, half joking, “We couldn’t have taken Hakyeon and just left him behind.” 

Wonsik pushed Jaehwan lightly, “Aw, come on, you know what I mean.” 

“You mean that I’m allowing myself to be— vulnerable around him,” said Jaehwan, “Do you think that it’s wise for me to do so? Am I just setting myself up for the disappointment of the century?”

“No,” said Wonsik decisively, “I think that you’re not the same person I’ve known all my life because the Jaehwan I knew wouldn’t have the courage to put himself out there like that.” 

Jaehwan snorted derisively, “Courage? We both know that I am, perhaps, the biggest coward we both know.” 

“You aren’t,” said Wonsik, matter-of-factly and maybe it was something about the way that he said it that shut Jaehwan up, “You were never a coward, Jaehwan.” 

Jaehwan ducked his head, looking away and feeling uncharacteristically flattered. “You are too nice of a person to be friends with someone like me.” 

“You know, you always think that you don’t deserve all of these good things,” said Wonsik, “Whether it’s about accepting me, Hongbin, or Sanghyuk in your life, you beat yourself up too much. It won’t kill you to to have someone that’s good for you for once in your life.” 

“Maybe,” said Jaehwan simply, feeling something akin to hope igniting within himself. He couldn’t escape his past but he still had his present and his future. Even if his future was looking to be cut short in less than a year. It was still something and he couldn’t afford to let go of it. Not yet. “Maybe it isn’t too late for two old souls to change.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -You may be thinking to yourself, "Wow AO3 user jaehwandred! Why are you such a shitty author? This was a short and uninteresting chapter! I'll never read anything from you again!"  
> -Hear me out there were ~*~feelings~*~ and convos I needed to hash out  
> -But. To make up for it. Check back next weekend for Neo porn because I have no self control.  
> -I love all your kudos and comments and you can also bully me on [twitter](twitter.com/jaehwandred) and [tumblr](chanstraeus.tumblr.com)


	12. Chapter 12

Jaehwan woke up to the cold sun, burning away in a distant sort of sense, unable to provide enough heat to penetrate the cold winter that had encapsulated the state. 

Last night they had stopped just before the border of Canada. Christmas approached with alarming swiftness. Had it just been a normal year, he would have been caught up in the commercial frenzy of it all, spending his days headed to this store and that in pursuit of the perfect gift. Or, more realistically, he would have put it all off until the last minute and panic ordered something from Amazon. Either way, it was disconcerting to realize that this year, there would be no Christmas tree and stockings. It made him feel more alienated from the real world than usual. He supposed he could still pull something together for them all.

It was going to be his last Christmas, anyways. 

Plus, he thought Sanghyuk deserved something.

Jaehwan sat up, yawning, and stretched above his head. Sanghyuk made a displeased noise in his sleep and turned over toward Jaehwan’s warmth. “Five more minutes,” he mumbled. 

He smiled, carding a hand through Sanghyuk’s hair, “You don’t have to get up anytime soon,” he promised, “Just sleep.” 

Sanghyuk slurred together what he probably intended to be words but all jumbled together, Jaehwan couldn’t discern anything. He got up as gently as he could, taking care not to disturb the tangle of blankets on their bed. There were no windows in their room, the only light coming from the alarm clock stationed on their bedside table piled high with paperback books. Jaehwan squinted to read it. 

6 A.M. 

He really needed to look into asking Hongbin for some kind of sleeping aid. He grabbed Sanghyuk’s black hoodie, shrugging it on and heading out into the living room. Low, muted voices caught his attention. The television had been left on. If he wasn’t mistaken, someone had apparently stayed up late watching Star Wars. 

Jaehwan headed over to the sofa, scanning the coffee table for the remote and— oh, it turned out the television hadn’t been left on overnight. “Taekwoon,” he said, his voice stiff, “You have quite the habit of showing up unexpectedly.” 

Taekwoon blinked at him, surly, “You’re blocking the TV,” was all he said.

Jaehwan rolled his eyes but obligingly moved out of the way. Despite Taekwoon’s eyes trained on the movie, he knew that he had his undivided attention. Because relaxing around each other still felt about as safe as letting your guard down around a sleeping dragon. “What are you doing up?” 

“Couldn’t sleep,” said Taekwoon, still not looking at him, “And you?” 

Jaehwan swallowed thickly, “Couldn’t sleep.” Round and around, it felt like it always went. He wondered if that was the reason they had never been able to sleep. Always connected, on one wavelength or another. Why did it feel like he could never escape? 

There was silence between them. But for once, it was more relaxed than charged. On screen, there was a great commotion of sounds and explosion as a ship crashed, but Taekwoon finally turned, his eyes bright in the predawn darkness. He shifted on the couch and said, “I never got to apologize.” 

“For what?” 

“For our argument the other day,” said Taekwoon.

“Our argument?” 

“I should have known to not— keep on pushing to get you to talk to me when I knew you would not want to,” his voice was quiet. 

“Oh,” Jaehwan said, rather dumbly. How was he supposed to respond to something like that? He had expected Taekwoon to do it again, push and prod at him until Jaehwan was exasperated enough to lash out but instead, he had gotten an apology. That made him feel like more of an asshole than he already was. Could this have been what Wonsik meant, then? Taekwoon was changing, or at least, trying to change. Maybe he really had been intentionally turning the other way. “You don’t have to apologize for that,” he said. 

“Well, I am,” Taekwoon said. 

Jaehwan was trapped between the ever so easy idea of falling back into just simply hating Taekwoon. But it was so hard to muster up the energy for that when Taekwoon was so simple and sincere in apologizing for something that was arguably Jaehwan’s fault. Jaehwan was, after all, the one who had started the argument in the first place. He rubbed his temples. When did even this start to become so difficult? Jaehwan was tired. Tired of it all. The gap between them felt so immeasurable still but he supposed it wouldn’t be asking too much to just stop being at each other’s throats all the time. 

It was a strange dichotomy to look at someone who he, for so long, had considered his enemy and realize that he had also been so many other things. There were so many innocent memories too, grounded in youth. He wondered if Taekwoon had even realized that he had been Jaehwan’s first kiss. 

He felt the old tug of nostalgia more heart-wrenching than even the grief of wondering about what could have been. They wasted so much time running barefoot through fields and the sweet summer grass, blissfully ignorant of the woes that would befall them later. Jaehwan still remembered their conversation under that blue sky with crayon drawn, smudgy white clouds. 

(“What do you think it’s like to kiss a boy?” Taekwoon had asked and it wasn’t so uncommon then for young boys to take interest in fooling around with their own gender, especially when they both spent more time training and playing together than even talking to the serving girls. But it still had taken Jaehwan off guard. 

Jaehwan replied with something witty, presumably. A dare to kiss him to see if it was any different than kissing girls.

And Taekwoon had.) 

Maybe it was the smudgy outline of the morning that had Jaehwan viewing Taekwoon differently— without so much malice. It felt even worse, this way, though. He looked at Taekwoon and could only see the fragments of their relationship staring back at him. 

“Hey, Jaehwan, do you think Hongbin is awake yet?”

“Probably not. Why?”

“He gave me access to that map of Hermes.”

“He trusted you enough with it?” Jaehwan asked, not quite bothering to keep the suspicion out of his voice. 

A flicker of annoyance passed through Taekwoon’s eyes but he chose to ignore it, “You didn’t tell me that it still didn’t have enough power to let us pinpoint any sort of accurate location on Thanatos. Were you just planning on going in blind?”

“No,” said Jaehwan, on the defensive, “We’re working on it.” 

“I see,” he said, “Well, if you had bothered to look closer, you would see that we are nearing a place of power. Isn’t that in our best interest to investigate?” 

“Last time we stopped by to pick up an artifact, we nearly got demolished by the local Nemean lion,” pointed out Jaehwan, “I don’t want to risk it again.” 

“If we don’t do anything, we’re only going in with a vague idea of where to find Thanatos and that is a much bigger risk to head into unknown territory than to try and acquire another artifact,” Taekwoon said. 

Jaehwan felt inclined to disagree simply because he was talking with Taekwoon. But he was right. The statue from Poseidon had only attuned the map to be more sensitive to beacons of power and while any one of those could be the god they were looking for, Alaska was a haven for ancient power, it seemed. They simply didn’t have enough time to waste investigating every single one of those points on the map. It was a safer gamble, though only marginally, to try and acquire another artifact. 

“We’ll discuss this later,” said Jaehwan in a firm voice, “But if we go— we should try to convince the rest to let just the two of us go.”

Taekwoon stared at him like he had lost his mind, “I’m sorry?” 

“If anything goes wrong, the chances of the two of us making it out alive are much higher.” 

Taekwoon scowled, “You can’t just decide these things by yourself. Had it not been for the others, there were many times we both could have been killed.” 

“We’ve done plenty of impossible things with just the two of us.” 

“You are too confident in both your abilities and mine,” said Taekwoon. 

“No,” said Jaehwan, edging closer to snapping at him again, “I’m just trying to protect them.”

“You don’t get to make that decision for any of them,” said Taekwoon with finality, “You were the one who said that we’ll discuss this later. And we will. With everyone present.” 

Jaehwan closed his eyes, turning away. 

“Fine,” he conceded, his voice still brittle, “Then I’m going back to sleep.”

“Hey,” said Taekwoon in his soft voice, “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?” 

Jaehwan stared back at him, into the dark, into those unreadable eyes. He would never know if they would ever be okay. Call it a character flaw, but forgiveness felt like worlds away. “I hope so,” he finally said. 

The words hung in between them, holding with it all the years lost between them.

— 

“You should have told us about this earlier,” came Hakyeon’s clipped voice as they sat around the dinner table. “After Monterey, I thought that we had the map unlocked.” 

Hongbin tapped his fingers on the wood, though Jaehwan couldn’t tell if it was from irritation or just because it was habit, “I couldn’t narrow it down.” He laid his palm flat on the table, “Mistakes were made.” 

“What are we looking for?” asked Wonsik. 

Hongbin looked a little more sure of himself now, sitting up at full height, “Right before the border, there’s a cluster of beacons on the map centered around these couple of houses. Or it could be just one big house. Either way, there’s bound to be some type of artifact there that’s strong enough for me to work with.” 

“That still sounds awfully vague,” countered Hakyeon.

“Look, I’m trying my best,” said Hongbin, sounding more exasperated now, “Magic isn’t as precise as most demigods think it is and we need this artifact or else we have little to no chance of finding Thanatos and I’m not going to go wandering around in Alaska, relying on luck, and praying for the best.” 

“If this is going to be a repeat of Monterey, though, we need to be careful,” piped up Wonsik. 

Taekwoon glanced at Jaehwan and an unspoken conversation passed between them, and Jaehwan could tell with the slight furrow in his brow that Taekwoon wasn’t entirely on board with his idea. He nodded ever so slightly, the gesture barely there. He knew that if Taekwoon brought it up, it would be taken more seriously by everyone. He so rarely offered his opinion that his words immediately weighed more. That was probably another point that Jaehwan should take to heart to shut up every once in awhile.

Taekwoon sighed, leaning back in his chair, “It doesn’t have to be a ‘we.’” 

“Meaning?” prompted Hongbin.

Taekwoon glanced at Jaehwan again. Across the table, he could feel Sanghyuk’s eyes on both of them. He resisted the urge to fidget. “The Nemean Lion was a close call,” he said, “I don’t want to risk the lives of everyone here when it would be faster to send Jaehwan and I to deal with it.” 

Sanghyuk looked like he was going to say something but Hongbin cut in, “We have no real way of seeing how dangerous this is going to be, either. This could be an even worse situation than the Nemean Lion and you think that you and Jaehwan can deal with it by yourselves?”

Taekwoon proceeded calmly, “The less of us there are, the less chance there is to draw a more dangerous monster. A cluster of demigods is only asking for more trouble. It’s in a residential area, isn’t it? This isn’t nearly as populated as a tourist attraction.” 

Sanghyuk propped his head up with his elbow on the table, appearing casual but his gaze was sharper than usual, “Are you saying that the rest of us aren’t as powerful as you?” 

“That wasn’t it,” said Taekwoon quietly and Jaehwan knew that he should probably step in before Sanghyuk snowballed the situation and went on to verbally murder Taekwoon. 

“We’re just trying to take less risks,” said Jaehwan. 

“Or are you just trying to relieve yourself of guilt in case one of us got hurt?” jabbed Sanghyuk.

Jaehwan winced. 

He could just barely feel Taekwoon shift a little next to him and he could nearly imagine Taekwoon keying into the memory that he himself had once accused Jaehwan of doing the exact same thing. Jaehwan swallowed, “I’m just trying to protect you— you guys. I truly don’t want to see any of you hurt.” 

Sanghyuk froze and Jaehwan knew that he had nearly cut that sentence short. He despised the part of himself that first and foremost had developed tunnel vision for only Sanghyuk. His friends were just as important to him as Sanghyuk was, but there was such a large part of Jaehwan that reacted so viscerally to the idea of Sanghyuk in danger if he could prevent it. He didn’t think he could bear it. 

“But we still need to make that decision for ourselves,” said Sanghyuk. 

He braced, waiting for Taekwoon to remind him that he had been right all along but it never came. Jaehwan knew that Taekwoon was silently judging him, though. 

Sanghyuk was right. He couldn’t force any of them to stay behind and each of their individual skills could be valuable. It looked like Jaehwan would have to simply swallow his stubborn pride and concede.

Hongbin steepled his fingers, “I mean, Taekwoon did bring up a pretty good point, though. A lot of us does tend to mean a lot of trouble.” 

“Are you really saying that we should send just the two of them out there?” asked Hakyeon, resistance in his voice. 

“No,” said Hongbin, “But not all of us have to go. It’s still a two day’s drive away. We can always see what the situation is like when we get there and send whoever has the best chance of making it out of there alive— and successful.” 

“Who knows,” said Wonsik, “Maybe whoever has a collection of artifacts that big would be willing to help us.” They all looked at him and he shrugged, “Not everything in our lives has to end in a fight.” 

Hongbin laughed a little, but not in a mocking way. He looked at Wonsik with that unspoken love that used to make Jaehwan feel as if he was a thousand miles away from the world that they occupied. “Well, I guess it certainly doesn’t hurt to dream a little bit.” 

— 

After what felt like decades on the road, it was an anomaly for them to pull into an actual city. Granted, it wasn’t the downtown urban sprawl of Los Angeles or Seattle. It was a suburban sprawl, ridiculously spread out over a gridwork of wide roads, planters dividing them full of pine trees. As they drove through, Jaehwan grew more and more aware that this particular city seemed to have been built upon some sort of master plan. Every shopping center looked nearly identical to the next, save for some minor differences in the color of their buildings and the layout of their parking lots. Chain restaurants linked together, the same eight logos or so popping up over and over again. 

He supposed that normalcy wasn’t such a bad thing when it seemed like all of the neighborhoods were rather affluent on some level or another. The houses mirrored each other across perfectly manicured lawns and driveways, their pretty roofs never having shown any sign of damage from inclement weather. It was the kind of place that would bore you to death within half a month but looked like it would be voted in the county newspaper as safest city and perfect for families. 

Jaehwan couldn’t imagine living in a place like this, where the most interesting thing to do on the weekend was take the dog on a walk in the immaculate neighborhood park. He reckoned it would drive him crazy to stay in a static environment that held no true peace. He would rather be swept up in the crazy ebb and flow of life of a big city or be treated to the serenity of his alpine retreat with his friends. 

Hermes’ map crinkled in his hands. The little beacons of light looked to Jaehwan like quest markers from a video game, glowing ever brighter as the van climbed the steadily winding road up the cliffside on the outskirts of the city. 

If Wonsik decided that now was the time to do any abrupt braking, Jaehwan was fucked. He leaned over the back of the passenger seat, selectively oblivious to his invasion of Hongbin’s personal space. 

“What do people do to get this rich?” Wonsik asked, peering out the window. It seemed that the higher up they went, the more mansion like the residences became. As they continued up, Jaehwan caught more glimpses of infinity pools dissolving into cliff edges and expansive Romeo and Juliet-esque balconies. These displays of wealth weren’t ostentatious, but they were certainly worth at least triple their own humble abode. 

Hongbin answered, “They probably hold stable, well-paying jobs. You know, unlike us.” 

“Running a semi-successful funeral parlor slash demigod one stop shop nearly counts as a stable, well-paying job,” Jaehwan said, “Why can’t you just magic us some more money?”

“That’s cheating, I have morals,” said Hongbin primly, “We don’t need a swimming pool. We all know that you’re both too lazy to ever use one.” 

“Not true, I would host excellent pool parties,” said Jaehwan. 

Hongbin chuckled, “Well, maybe not a pool party. But you’re more than welcome to host a celebratory party when we all get back.” 

Jaehwan watched his expression out of the corner of his eye. Hongbin made no mention of what he saw in that scrying bowl all those months ago. Maybe he was still clinging onto the quiet hope that he was wrong and that against all odds, they would not only succeed, but they would be able to bring Jaehwan back alive as well. For how dry of a sense of humor he had, Hongbin always was the optimist among them. 

“Isn’t that the dream?” Jaehwan said, “What would we do? Hold some kind of backyard barbecue and hope that one of us is competent enough to not burn all the meat?” 

“You could invite Sanghyuk,” suggested Hongbin slyly, as if he didn’t know the implications of dropping that into their conversation. 

Jaehwan pretended to deliberate it for a second, “I could.” He allowed himself precious few opportunities to even think about any kind of future with Sanghyuk. Sometimes it was so tempting to allow himself those little pockets of pleasure that existed in his mind, spinning scenarios that filled his heart as they played out in just the right way in his head. He forced himself to think of anything other than the future. They had the future to contend with first. 

As they climbed the hill, they passed the strata of new money. The houses slowly became more grandiose, looking more like European mansions than sleek modern creations. The Odyssey stood out like a sore red thumb. Its faded cherry red was a far cry from the glossy silver and black luxury sports cars parked in the driveways of the mansions within the neighborhood. “Have you ever considered how exactly we’re going to even get past the gate?” asked Jaehwan.

“No,” said Hongbin flippantly, “We should probably start being concerned though because Wonsik looks homeless.” 

“I don’t look like a hobo this is just how I dress!” Wonsik spluttered.

Hongbin raised an eyebrow, dragging a scathing gaze down Wonsik’s form, “You dress acceptably about half the time if I’m lucky. Do I really have to remind you of the time you almost wore socks with sandals in public?” 

“It’s comfortable,” he said stoutly.

“But in public?” Hongbin sounded pained. 

“It was also an abnormally cold summer,” Wonsik defended. 

“That’s not an excuse!” said Jaehwan, personally glad that he had dodged the horror of being spotted with Wonsik in public while he was in fashion disaster mode. 

“Like you’re any better,” said Hongbin, “You don’t even look good in turtlenecks but I know you’ve been stealing them from Hakyeon just to hide your hickeys.” 

Jaehwan froze. He touched his own neck subconsciously and— he was wearing a scarf today at least. He had to change it up once in awhile and Hakyeon was starting to demand his stuff back. Jaehwan pulled the scarf up higher just in case he gave something away. “Well,” he said stiffly, “At least I’m not the one that looks homeless.”

Wonsik rolled his eyes. 

The car rolled to a slow halt on the cobblestone driveway. The gate ahead of them posed a bit of a challenge logistically, especially because Hongbin was often reluctant to use any sort of mind altering magic on mortals. Jaehwan had no idea how they would talk their way out of this one. 

The plaque ahead of them read, “Lambert Ranch.” The community was wealthy enough to have a guard in the gatehouse. He was a middle aged man with the apathy of a thankless job sunken into his smile lines. Silver streaked his dusty brown hair and his blue eyes stared unnervingly into the car. Jaehwan knew that the gatekeeper was just human but he couldn’t help the feeling that he knew they were up to something. 

Then he realized that they were a minivan full of college aged teenage boys and Jaehwan figured that yeah, he would be a bit suspicious too. 

“Oh gods, I should have driven,” muttered Hongbin under his breath as they got closer. He snapped his fingers and Wonsik was dressed up in a navy button down and flattering black slacks. His cheap sunglasses were magicked into a snazzy pair of aviators and with Hongbin’s quick work, Wonsik looked like he belonged down the high fashion streets of Los Angeles instead of having just rolled out of bed. 

Hongbin quickly settled back down in the passenger seat and Jaehwan retreated slightly backwards so that he was hopefully cloaked in the Odyssey’s magic that covered their living area. He stifled his laughter when Hongbin muttered under his breath to Wonsik, “If you fuck this up, I will murder you.” 

The driver’s side window rolled down with a low hum. Wonsik leaned out the window, his lax carelessness in his movements somehow lending to the picture of arrogant confidence. 

The gatekeeper’s eyes lingered on Wonsik, flitting quickly to Hongbin, then looking at Wonsik again. Perhaps he was wondering whether or not it had been a trick of imagination that he had seen Wonsik in different clothes just a couple of seconds ago as they pulled up. He eventually chose to look past it and set down his paperback novel, taking the few lengthy strides to their car. The gatekeeper’s blue eyes seemed to loom over them, an oppressive feeling that informed them that they most definitely did not belong here.

“Lambert Gate is only available to its residents and personally invited family and friends,” he drawled with overwhelming pompousness, elongating every syllable, “May I have a name of who you are visiting?” 

Hongbin chimed in from the passenger seat before Wonsik had the chance to answer, “Dan Misik,” he said, his words tumbling out in a rush. In retrospect, maybe that’s what the strange symbols hovering above the points on the map were trying to inform him of. Well, knowing the house owner’s name probably would have been helpful. At least Hongbin was always on top of things. It did make him feel a bit irresponsible, though.

The gatekeeper couldn’t work fast enough to conceal his surprised reaction, large owlish eyes blinking rapidly, “He hasn’t had a visitor in over five years.” 

“...We’re family friends,” said Wonsik. 

The gatekeeper squinted down at his clipboard, flipping through the unblemished pieces of paper, “He only has one visitor approved on this list. Are you— Chris Nguyen?” 

“Yes,” Wonsik jumped to answer a little too quickly, “I’m Chris Nguyen. Um— “ he shot a glance at Hongbin, “He is also Chris Nguyen. We are all Chris Nguyen. It’s— a common name. It runs in the family.” 

The gatekeeper fought not to sigh. He held out a hand, “Identification, please.” 

Wonsik tried his hardest not to blanch, “Uh— “ He made a show, turning around, fumbling for his wallet, sending a silent plea backwards to Jaehwan. 

Jaehwan could only shrug helplessly, the corners of his mouth twitching up in amusement. Hongbin took advantage of the momentary distraction and whispered something, the spell traveling from his lips in a visible smoky trail and curled around the gatekeeper’s eyes before sinking into his temple. 

He opened his mouth, voice monotonous, “You are free to enter, Mr. Nguyen.”

Wonsik looked up, turning around quizzically. The gates opened inward and the keeper sat down again at his post, looking like he had just woken up from a several hour long nap. Wonsik glanced at Hongbin for a moment before flooring it, shooting through the gates just in case the gatekeeper came out of his stupor a second too early. 

They burned down the center street and Jaehwan imagined what a sight it was to see a minivan barrelling down a neighborhood like this. Wonsik slowed down, though, nearing the center of the neighborhood and pulling up next to the curb. 

“You didn’t do anything lasting to that guy, did you?” he asked.

Hongbin shook his head, “Threw in a little memory modification. He’ll just assume that he zoned out for about an hour or so on the job.”

“Nice going, Chris Nguyen,” said Jaehwan who had to dodge Wonsik’s fist. 

Wonsik shifted the car to park. The other half of their merry little band arrived, keen to decide on a game plan. Sanghyuk came from behind, wrapping his arms around Jaehwan’s waist and resting his chin on Jaehwan’s shoulder, “What did we miss?”

“Wonsik being an idiot,” Hongbin joked, brushing his hair out of his eyes. 

Taekwoon cocked his head to the side, “These mansions do not seem very imposing and the area doesn’t look like it poses any threats. I doubt we will need more than one person to join Jaehwan and I.” 

“Saying that everything looks fine is the fastest way to jinx it,” said Hakyeon, his hand on Taekwoon’s shoulder. 

“It will be fine,” Taekwoon said quietly.

“I doubt you’ll encounter any kind of danger,” said Hongbin, “The guy at the gate said that this Dan Misik hasn’t had visitors in years. I’m betting that he’s just some washed up millionaire who was really into Greek history and is some kind of recluse. Bonus points if he’s an old demigod then at least he’ll probably be willing to help you.” 

“Take Sanghyuk,” Hakyeon suggested, “Then you’ll have the perfect trio of charming, intimidating, and— I guess Taekwoon can just punch his way out of a situation if all else fails.” 

“That is an oversimplification of how I deal with things,” Taekwoon murmured. 

Jaehwan’s initial knee jerk reaction was to argue. He had wanted to go with just Taekwoon to ensure that Sanghyuk stayed irrevocably safe and this was kind of ruining the plan. But then Sanghyuk said, “Sure,” with a quick glance between Taekwoon and Jaehwan, “And someone has to make sure that you two don’t try to murder each other.” 

“A free babysitter,” Jaehwan said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Alright, fine. What could go wrong, right?” 

“What exactly should we be looking for?” Taekwoon asked Hongbin.

“There should be a house full to the brim with artifacts,” he said, “But if you find anything that looks like it could be directly from a god or goddess, that would be the safest bet.” 

“You should go,” Wonsik said, “Before the sun sets.” 

“Try not to do anything stupid,” said Hakyeon, leaning up to kiss Taekwoon quickly, “And by that, I mean don’t die without me because I’d miss having you around.” 

Sanghyuk, in all of his maturity, mimed a gagging motion at the words to which Jaehwan punched him lightly in the side. Though, sometimes, he kind of agreed with him. “Come on, let’s go,” he said, ushering the two of them out the door before they wasted any more time stalling.

The sun hovered over them. It was just past noon. From the curbside, tiers of stairs lead up to the Italian style mansion. The walkway up was crowded with hedges and cypress trees at a standstill in the static weather. A fountain greeted them at the door of the house, the soft sound of falling water trickling set Jaehwan’s nerves somewhat at ease. 

He felt like he was going to a dinner party and was woefully underdressed. He was wearing a cardigan and a tasteful pair of black pants but still, the opulence of the house was intimidating and they had no idea how they were going to be received. 

They passed through the classical triple arches, and Jaehwan took the initiative, ringing the doorbell then retracting his hand quickly with an extra dose of jumpiness. Sanghyuk snorted at that but Jaehwan ignored him, feeling the nervous energy build up inside of him.

No response came. They waited a long enough time for Taekwoon to feel comfortable enough to pull out his phone, obviously bored. “I think you got the wrong house,” he said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Maybe,” indulged Jaehwan, but he knew for a fact that this was the right one. He shifted his weight anxiously from side to side. Sanghyuk stood off to the side, leaning against one of the columns, his expression more shuttered off than usual. Maybe he was just tired.

Another minute passed, painstakingly slow especially considering it felt like the weight of failure would be on Jaehwan’s shoulders. His civility with Taekwoon was still on pretty thin ice. He didn’t want to give him another reason to become annoyed with him. 

The door opened, a middle aged man squinting against the sunlight reflecting off the cars as if he hadn’t been outside in eons. He looked— well, he didn’t look terribly out of the ordinary. He stood in a way that reminded Jaehwan of Taekwoon: with quiet nobility. But his black hair was messily askew, gold rimmed glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Mr. Misik?” Jaehwan asked tentatively, not sure what sort of etiquette was expected of him.

The man gave him a tight-lipped, politician smile, “I do not ever recall expecting visitors.” His voice was neutral but the words didn’t sound particularly welcoming. Misik took into account each of them in turn, “Son of Hades, Son of Zeus, and a Son of Apollo. The arrival of three demigods on my doorstep has not always meant good news for me in the past.” 

Jaehwan laughed a bit, partially to shake off the nerves, “We don’t mean any harm, Mr. Misik. It’s— a bit of a long story but we think that you might be able to help us on our quest.” 

The man stepped back, opening the door wider to allow them in. “It would be rude to have you wait on my doorstep,” he said, gesturing with a gloved hand. The glove looked like it was made out of fine gold chainmail. It struck Jaehwan as odd at first, but coupled with his rather eccentric fashion choices, he supposed it kind of fit. 

Jaehwan was hyperaware of how scruffy his tennis shoes must seem on the spotless marble floor. He really should have dressed a little nicer for this. The man didn’t seem bothered by inviting three strangers into his home, though, leading the way in like a gracious host who had been expecting these particular guests for years.

He looked around. For a classically styled Italian mansion from the outside, the inside was oddly oriental. The dichotomy of the two styles made itself apparent when it turned out that Hongbin’s intuition was right. He did seem like a collector, the kind that picked up odds and ends from his travels around the world and brought them back to his house for a faux museum. Dan Misik didn’t seem like the type of person to be an avid traveler, but he reminded himself to not let his initial impressions of people influence his view too much. It was easier for Jaehwan himself to make a better impression if he did his best to put his suspicions behind him.

“This is quite the collection you have here,” said Jaehwan, sliding his hands into his pockets as he followed the man past the entrance foyer. 

“Oh, when you live a life such as mine, you acquire these sorts of things,” said Dan, heading towards the parlor, “I am, quite frankly, surprised that anyone knows of my existence at all. How did you come to find me and determine that I would be able to help you?” 

Jaehwan sank down into the couch’s plush red seat, his back meeting the solid resistance of dark wood. Sanghyuk took the seat next to him, not leaning into him like he usually would in the Odyssey. He looked tense, on the edge of fleeing. Taekwoon chose to remain standing but, well, he was Taekwoon. He would often take active vigilance over adhering to social cues. 

Misik waited patiently for them to settle and thankfully he didn’t seem bothered by Taekwoon’s hovering. Jaehwan rolled his shoulders before saying, “Well, it’s a bit of a long story,” he said with an apologetic smile, “But we have a map that is running a bit low on the power needed to reveal the location of— something to us.” 

He explained to Misik the origin of the map and their quest which had taken them on the world’s most unfortunate roadtrip across the states. Out of the corner of his eye, Jaehwan could see Taekwoon barely listening to him. Which wasn’t completely abnormal. Except Taekwoon was on the perimeters of the room, examining every object with a meticulous eye. Jaehwan kept talking, trying his best to ignore him.

When he was finished, Misik leaned forward, a gleam of curiosity in his eyes, “It is odd that your map would lead you here. For I have very few artifacts that can be traced back to my own Greek roots.”

Jaehwan hoped there was no disappointment visible on his face. “It’s a gift from Hermes, though. I doubt it would point us here for no reason.” 

Misik frowned, looking about the room, “I admit that I am less of a collector and more of a hoarder. I don’t know half of the stories behind the trinkets I’ve acquired so perhaps there is something here that I could have missed.” 

“Do you have anything tied to your own heritage?” Sanghyuk tried. 

“I am not a demigod myself,” said Misik enigmatically, “I have only ancient roots tracing back to the cult of Cybele, which, I reckon is something that I shouldn’t be too proud of.” 

_Cybele_.

It was rare for any piece of mythology or history to stump Jaehwan, considering who he was, but that was a name that had rarely crossed his radar. From what he remembered, Cybele was a foreign goddess of sorts, not fully assimilated into their own Pantheon. She had inspired cult followings because of her reputation as a guardian of cities, kingdoms. There was a negative stigma but Jaehwan couldn’t remember anything overtly terrible about her or her followers. 

“If you aren't a demigod, how did you know who we were?” asked Sanghyuk.

“You are the son of Apollo, are you not?” said Misik, “Just because I'm not a demigod myself doesn't mean that word doesn't get around. Our kind know the world is in upheaval and rumors were abound.”

“I see,” said Sanghyuk delicately which was a little off-putting because Sanghyuk never said anything _delicately_. 

“Well, I don’t want to waste your precious time. Since you’ve all already made the effort to visit me, why don’t you join me for a home tour? Speaking frankly, I am a man of many mortal riches. If you find the need for any one of my artifacts, I’d be more than willing to help a good cause,” said Misik. 

To Jaehwan’s side, Taekwoon examined something on the table. He slipped his hands into his pockets and leaned forward, focused on the golden hourglass. It was a thing of beauty, and apparently Taekwoon agreed.

“This is very fine gold,” murmured Taekwoon before straightening up, “How exactly did you come into possession of all this money?” 

Misik laughed, as if they shared a private joke between the two of them, “Inheritance. I was very lucky with my lot in life.” 

Taekwoon blinked owlishly. He didn’t trust that answer. He didn’t trust this mansion. He didn’t trust this— Dan Misik. He was clearly lying about not having any Greek artifacts. The map didn’t lie because magic could not. Perhaps the explanation was as innocuous as Dan Misik was a thief. But there was just something so fundamentally off about the whole thing that every one of his instincts was screaming at him to get out and run.

Jaehwan was not to be deterred, though, because he accepted the offer with all smiles, “Of course!” 

Sanghyuk and Taekwoon exchanged a glance. 

It wasn’t like they had another choice. He didn’t know about Sanghyuk but between him and Jaehwan, both of them were loath to accept defeat in any form. Taekwoon wasn’t going to let this pass by. They needed an artifact and an opportunity like this wasn’t going to come by so conveniently any time soon. So, they followed Misik and Jaehwan down the hall. 

The hallway made Taekwoon feel antsy as they headed further into the house. It felt a little too claustrophobic though he knew the sky wasn’t very far away. Maybe it was something about the ancient energy and magic shrouding nearly every piece of furniture and every object in the house. Even if they weren’t Greek in heritage, their magic was still potent, just not usable to them. The magic dampened his senses, as if they were underground. 

He glanced over to Sanghyuk who glanced around, seemingly unbothered. On both sides of the walls, abnormally long landscape paintings reached down the length of the hallway, looking more like windows than works of art. It was an idyllic portrait of cherry blossoms by a pond. The painting must have been enchanted because the leaves fluttered down softly onto the green grass and skated across the glassy surface of the water. As they passed by, the mood shifted. Far off thunder resounded, the bass filled boom heralding a deluge of rain in the painting, washing the sunshine out. Taekwoon wondered briefly if it was because of him. 

“Pretty, isn’t it?” said Misik, “Straight from Japan. Plucky little sorcerer was pretty keen to get it off of her hands. Said it was a rather temperamental piece and no one wanted to look at the rain all the time.” 

Ahead of him, Jaehwan took in the view of the cherry blossoms under the tempestuous sky and he hummed a short little melody. Knowing him, it was probably an anime opening. From the way Sanghyuk’s attention was captured, it most definitely was. 

He sighed, just a little.

The hallway opened up into a light and airy room with gilded windows reaching up to the ceiling and a golden chandelier. Misik seemed to definitely have a thing for gold. A part of him was tempted to take a couple of things just to resell them but he felt guilty soon afterwards for even having the thought. 

The slivers of the wall in between the windows featured taxidermied animal heads. It was a little unsettling to have the undead eyes of deer following him around the room. In the center was a jade statue of a serpentine dragon, holding a scroll in its mouth which was— made of gold. He got the sense that there were parts of the house that Misik himself rarely visited. There was an assortment of cardboard boxes and glass cases scattered around on the low wooden tables like move in day wasn’t very long ago.

Jaehwan tensed suddenly, his eyebrows furrowing, “I thought I sensed— “ he began. Then he second guessed himself, shaking his head, “Nevermind.” 

Misik made a dismissive, sweeping gesture, “That statue is a bit of a strange one, too. Seller was awfully glad to be rid of it.” 

“Aren’t you worried that these things could be haunted?” asked Sanghyuk, the voice of practicality.

He laughed, the sound both prim and scornful, “Haunted? Aren’t you a demigod? And you still believe in ghosts?” 

Taekwoon could practically see Sanghyuk bristle at the condescending tone, “It’s not very hard to place a curse on items such as these. The more ancient an artifact, the more likely it is to hold a spell.” 

“I’ve lived here long enough, haven’t I?” said Misik, “Now come. There is more to see.” 

So they trekked on, deeper into the heart of the house.

For someone that never expected visitors, Misik was quite talkative. He reminded Taekwoon of the court jesters, able to spin a conversation out of anything and everything, latching onto threads of words and wrapping an unsuspecting passerby in a web of flattery. “You seem like someone who wants to travel,” he said to Jaehwan.

Jaehwan laughed, his smile wry, “I think I’ve had enough of traveling for now,” he admitted, “But I think I would like to visit other countries more often.”

“You would travel alone?”

“No,” answered Jaehwan with no hesitation, “I think I’ve grown too used to having my friends with me. I could see the world without them but I think it would be awfully lonely.” 

“How marvelous it is to be young and to have your friends at the center of your world,” said Misik with the brand of pretentiousness that only the elderly seemed to possess. 

He couldn’t very well say it aloud, but he knew Jaehwan had lifetimes on Misik. He knew Jaehwan treasured his friends with his life because he had no blood family to love. They were the things he knew about Jaehwan because they were the kinds of secrets shared drunkenly between two best friends in the middle of summer nights.

“It is quite marvelous,” said Jaehwan simply and left it at that.

The winding staircases lead them up, maze-like and impossible in structure, spanning dizzying gaps as they climbed to the upper levels of the house. The whimsical nature of it all made Taekwoon wonder about the magician who was obviously commissioned to create such feats. He was lucky that he wasn’t scared of heights. Jaehwan looked noticeably paler as he was determined not to look down. 

A vase stood on top of a pedestal, spinning precariously on its own. The black figures on the side came to life. The scene wrapped around the vase as the figures clashed in infinite battle, embraced as lovers, and sat around a fire. They didn’t linger for very long and got off the staircase, only to follow Misik down a sloping ramp back to the second floor of the house. The place was a convoluted hodgepodge of of magic gone wrong and he couldn’t imagine how any sane being would voluntarily choose to live here.

Another statue of a dragon greeted them in the next room, though this one was gold instead of jade. At the human presence, its ears flattened against its head and it roared. Jaehwan had the misfortune of standing right next to it and he yelped, reflexively grabbing Sanghyuk and using him as a human shield before the dragon retreated, slinking back onto its pedestal, watching them warily. 

Taekwoon laughed at that and Jaehwan had the decency to look a little embarrassed. 

Soft music filled the room, the sound fuzzy and a little nostalgic. A music box played on its own terms as Misik walked over to it. The song switched from smooth jazz to a contemporary ballad that Taekwoon was sure he heard on the radio the other day. “It plays whatever song is stuck in your head or anything that fits the mood that you’re in,” Misik explained, “But it seems to think that I am very fond of smooth jazz. One of my favorite possessions though I never was very musically talented myself.”

The music seemed to follow them, floating through the air as they walked away. “I used to sing,” said Taekwoon suddenly. He thought he was rather decent at it, considering he was forced to learn some kind of musical skill as a child. It was expected of a prince to be versed in the arts and he had roped Jaehwan into his classes as well. 

Jaehwan scowled a little at the mention of the memory. He probably didn’t want Taekwoon bringing something like that up in front of Sanghyuk who asked, “You have a nice voice, Jae, did you used to sing too?” 

“I still sing,” said Jaehwan, “You have been a witness many times to my carpool karaoke.”

Sanghyuk rolled his eyes, “You know what I mean. That’s not singing when you’re just screaming lyrics at the top of your lungs.”

“Singing is really just controlled screaming,” pointed out Jaehwan cheekily, but his demeanor softened a little, “I can sing. Sort of. Theoretically.” 

“Don’t listen to him,” said Taekwoon, “He took the same classes I did and he can talk your ear off about music if you let him.”

“So can you,” retorted Jaehwan.

“You should sing for me one day,” said Sanghyuk.

Jaehwan paused, looking at Sanghyuk with those starry eyes of his, “I think I would like that.” 

The moment dispelled as quickly as it came and the music box ceased to play. Jaehwan blinked, like he had just come out of a dream. 

The artificial music stopped, but the next room was filled with instruments. A golden guitar sat in the corner, neglected. The harpsichord trilled excitedly at the prospect of visitors, hopping up to play itself though it was a little out of tune. The trumpets honked at each other and Taekwoon winced, though it was almost charming to see how the instruments vied for the award of being the loudest. They sought joy in creating music for an audience and it made him feel a bit sorry for them. It seemed like no one had been around to listen to them for a very long time. 

At the center of it all stood a grand golden piano, every inch of it covered in the precious metal. He heard, in the background, Misik rambling on about the merits of each instrument, inviting Sanghyuk and Jaehwan to try a hand at one or two. He circled around the piano. 

It was obviously abandoned like the rest of the instruments, covered in a fine layer of dust. Something had been left on the keyboard’s cover. Taekwoon furrowed his brows. It was a medallion. 

He glanced at the other three who were absorbed in conversation. Taekwoon hesitated, his hand hovering over it before picking it up. It was gold, like so many of the other things in the house but he recognized the engraving on it immediately. Cerberus stared back at him from the metal, with so much life in his eyes that he knew this was not the work of a human hand. Taekwoon realized just how surreal his life was when he realized he was only this familiar with the three headed dog because Jaehwan had once been summoned down to the Underworld and had managed to drag Taekwoon along with him. While he was consulting with his father, Jaehwan had sent him off to entertain Cerberus by playing fetch. It— hadn’t ended well. He was more of a cat person, anyways.

Taekwoon pocketed it hastily. This was a medallion of the House of Hades. He was sure of it.  
Misik must have seen him because he stopped abruptly in the middle of a sentence to come over to Taekwoon, subtly crowding him away from the piano, “A beauty, isn’t it? It’s the only instrument in this room that I still play.” 

Taekwoon didn’t know why he had suddenly attracted Misik’s attention, but such a sudden movement aroused his suspicion. He kept his face blank, hoping to put on his politest voice, “I see.” 

“Don’t want to touch the rest,” Misik said, “Wouldn’t want to ruin them.”

It was like the final piece of the puzzle was just out of his reach. Taekwoon wanted to warn the other two that something was wrong. It was a niggling sense of instinct that refused to leave him and it only grew with every passing minute. 

“Son of Zeus,” said Misik suddenly, crashing his train of thoughts, “Do you think that you have found what you’re looking for?”

Taekwoon stared steadily back at him, “No,” he lied. 

The tense seconds that ticked by between them felt like hours. But finally, Misik dropped his gaze and turned to the others. Taekwoon barely warded off the chill that raced down his spine. There was something about those eyes that were so unsteadily piercing and that stare stayed with him long after he looked away.

“I’m sorry that you couldn’t find anything very helpful amongst my collection,” said Misik, sounding completely sincere had Taekwoon not been so suspicious of him, “I don’t want to hold you for too much longer.”

Jaehwan, ever cordial, “No, it was our pleasure. You have some very unique items and enchantments here.” 

“If you have the time, I have one more room,” invited Misik. 

Sanghyuk looked uncertain, “Uh— “ he began but before he could form a proper sentence, Jaehwan jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow, the movement not subtle at all, “I mean, yes, yeah, we’d love to.” 

Misik smiled, slow and sickly sweet as honey. “It won’t be long,” he promised, beckoning them forth and they followed, deeper into the heart of the collector’s mansion. He took off his gloves as he walked, his hands smooth and uncalloused. On his finger winked a golden ring with an inscription in ancient Greek that Taekwoon couldn’t quite make out from where he was standing. His heartbeat quickened minutely. What if that was the artifact they were searching for and Taekwoon had grabbed the wrong one? 

They descended down a winding spiral staircase, the more opulent version of the compact and simple one that existed in the Odyssey. He could breathe a little more, now. This part of the house felt more lived in, more real. 

Then they entered a room in which reality fell away.

The heavens opened up above them, the ceiling stretching, stretching upwards. The room was circular, the dome above them being either a great skylight or another piece of magic, designed to mimic the sky. Jaehwan’s awed praise was lost in the sheer size of the room, his voice swallowed by an echo. Below them, the floor was covered in mosaic tiles, interlocked with each other to form a series of pictures. Upon closer examination, Taekwoon realized that he recognized them because he had grown up on these myths. They were the twelve trials of Hercules. 

On the walls around them, gold and more gold built up to create even more images. He thought he recognized the stories of the Trojan War, of the great hero Achilles who won the war outside the gates of Troy. They reminded Taekwoon of the Byzantine mosaics. There was no earthly plane to speak of and the heroes floated suspended in the air, untouched by the laws that bound every other mortal. 

He thought it fitting that in the end, Misik’s greatest pride would be found in the agglomeration of different cultures mix and matched together into some grand display of wealth. Not that Taekwoon had known the man for very long but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what made him tick.

Still, he had to admit that it was impressive and judging by his companion’s slack jaws and wide eyed gazes, they did too. “That one seems different than the rest,” Jaehwan observed, pointing to a scene across from them, “Is there a story behind it?” 

“That?” said Misik, “That’s my daughter.”

“She’s beautiful,” said Jaehwan frankly, of the picture of a girl about their age with tanned olive skin and flowing black hair. “Does she still live with you?”

“No, she’s dead.”

“Oh,” stammered Jaehwan, startled, “I’m sorry for your loss.” 

“Yes, it was a shame,” bemoaned Misik, “It was an accident but in the end, I was the one that killed her.” 

There was a shocked silence left in the wake of that statement. Taekwoon wondered how Jaehwan found it in him to still sound so gratingly polite, “...Sorry, did you just say— ?” 

“That I killed my daughter?” he said calmly, “Yes, but as I said, accidents do happen.” He took a step toward them, speaking in the monotone voice of a museum curator, “I have a son, of course. Wouldn’t do to have the family line die out. But sometimes I’m afraid I’ll do to him what I did to her.”

Jaehwan stood a little closer to Sanghyuk, subtly positioning himself in front of him. He looked sharper now, glancing momentarily at Taekwoon before affording Misik the undivided attention a man such as him demanded, “Thank you for the tour, Mr. Misik but I’m afraid we must get going.” 

“No,” he said simply and with a snap of his fingers, the doors they came through slammed shut, locking with a decisive click. 

Jaehwan took a step back as Misik took another one forward, the once senile collector looked quite a bit more threatening now that they had no escape. “Never puzzled it out?” asked Misik, “Dan Misik was never my true name.”

Sanghyuk clenched his jaw, sounding braver than he looked, “Then who are you?”

Relishing in the moment, he said with a grin, “Why, I am King Midas.” 

The thoughts raced through his head, clicking so easily in their place. The royal lineage, those piercing kingly eyes, the gold, the gloves, the name that rearranged itself to give away his true nature. Midas struck like a snake, ungloved hand grabbing Jaehwan’s bare arm and Sanghyuk in turn before either could make a move to defend themselves.

It happened instantaneously. The gold started from where Midas touched them then spread as a venom, encasing them in the metal and trapped in time. He surprised even himself by not being terrified out of his wits. He was always prepared and trained for dealing with monsters but he was at a loss when the monster facing him was a human. There was no swordsmanship lesson that ever taught him how to turn his companions from statues back to the humans they once were and that was the best case scenario. That was if Taekwoon could avoid the same fate as them.

He couldn’t very well pull out his phone and send off a quick text to Hakyeon to let him know that they would be back late because he simply hadn’t spoken up about the perceived danger and gotten both Sanghyuk and Jaehwan turned into inanimate problems. This— was a slight problem. And he was on his own. 

The sky felt so distant, the presence of his domain dampened by the mansion. He flexed his fingers subconsciously, itching to summon his sword and hack and slash his way through it. They teased him for turning first to violence to solve answers, but it couldn’t be said that it wasn’t effective. 

“I know you have my medallion,” said Midas calmly, holding his hand out, “Why don’t you play nice and hand it back to me? Hosting guests is hard and I don’t have the energy to play a game of cat and mouse with a thief.” 

He deadpanned back, “You were the one who offered to help. Why the sudden change in heart?” 

“Thanatos would never allow me back through the Doors of Death,” sneered Midas, “I’m willing to serve the mistress who allows me to live.”

“This medallion belongs to Hades, not you,” pointed out Taekwoon.

“I’m a collector,” he said, patronizing. 

“I would like to not spend the rest of my life as a statue,” he said quietly. 

“And deny me of a chance to have such a coveted treasure in my home?” asked Midas, hand hovering over his chest in a dramatic motion. 

“You can keep your duo,” said Taekwoon, flashing the medallion tantalizingly, “I, for one, have acquired what I came for.” 

“Haven’t you realized a slight flaw in your little plan?” sneered Midas, “You’re trapped.” 

Taekwoon blinked at him slowly, like he was considering his words. “No,” he said, “A son of Zeus is never trapped.” 

The glass shattered above them, a flash of lightning descending and piercing through the dome, exposing the true sky. The once peaceful sky turned on a dime, clouds rolling in, heavy with rain and thunder. 

Midas’ eyes flashed as he realized what Taekwoon was trying to do. But Taekwoon dodged his outreached hand with a deft movement, hoping to keep his traction on the slippery floor. The storm above them grew in power and Taekwoon prayed that Midas wouldn’t pick up on the immense amount of energy it cost him to conjure a weather system on his own. 

“You— “ snarled Midas, gaining on him with the ferocity of a serial killer. But he had nowhere to run when the lightning struck down through the center of the dome. The lightning sought the gold like its life depended on it. The gold that Midas so coveted was currently Taekwoon’s most powerful ally. 

The electricity coursed through the walls, the floor, the ceiling itself. Taekwoon could feel the already immense energy being amplified through the room. He didn’t want to take a human life like this and even the thought of it made him grimace but he had no choice. Another moment of hesitation and Midas would strike. 

The lightning surged up through his own body, and shot through his hand, a pure outburst of energy that struck Midas straight in the chest.

The few milliseconds after taking a life was always the worse.

Because Taekwoon could still see the terror in their still alive eyes, knowing that death was soon to follow. It first took his breath, the impact of Taekwoon’s decision knocking all the air from his lungs. The electricity kept flowing, sending jolts through his body. His limbs jerked helplessly, caught in the throes of fatal pain. Midas sunk to his knees, gasping for air. Then he keeled over, kneeling on the floor of his own modern palace, clawing desperately at the mosaics there as if it would help. 

Taekwoon took a shaky step back as Midas fell to the ground, with blank eyes and a hand outstretched. His gloves had fallen out of his hand and they lay limply next to him. 

He closed his eyes, willing for himself to stop trembling even if there was no one around to see. 

It was always so different, killing someone with his powers. As if skewering someone with a sword was any better but for some reason, it didn’t feel as intimate. It was always more removed when they were on the other end of a blade. But his powers were an integral part of who he was, they became him. Taekwoon could still feel the residual energy of Midas’ life. Or maybe that was just his imagination. He wanted to think it was.

Taekwoon knew that he had no choice in the matter, but it felt almost dirty to have killed a human instead of a monster. Which was, quite frankly, ridiculous considering how many wars and battles he himself had waged. But he was glad Hakyeon was not here to bear witness to this. 

Then came the quiet after the storm. 

He felt the storm’s energy above him dissipate as his energy waned but he couldn’t quite afford that yet. There was still the issue of Sanghyuk and Jaehwan. 

The thunder rumbled at him, sounding almost like a cat’s disgruntled purr. He relaxed, ever so slightly, and let the rain flow in through the dorm, uninhibited. The running water only trickled over Sanghyuk and Jaehwan’s frozen forms but it was enough.

The gold veneer fell, freeing the two.

Sanghyuk was faster to recover, on guard immediately though Taekwoon had already eliminated the threat, “What the fuck just— “ 

“I killed him,” stated Taekwoon plainly. 

Jaehwan looked upward, the rain still continuing to fall gently from the sky and down his face like tear tracks. “Looked like it was quite the spectacle,” he remarked.

“It was.”

Sanghyuk jerked noticeably when he realized that a dead body lay at Taekwoon’s feet and he stared at Midas’ dead body with a wide eyed mixture of what seemed to be disgust, fear, and curiosity. It hadn’t even occurred to Taekwoon that there had been no need to kill anyone in their months on the road. Death was a very different beast than the neatly manicured version presented in funeral viewings. 

In the real world, their eyes were rarely closed. Midas’ eyes stared blankly ahead. They were so, so empty. 

“We should leave,” said Taekwoon gently, forcing Sanghyuk’s attention back to him, “I don’t know if those dragon statues were a result of Midas’ golden touch but I think it would be best to not stick around long enough to find out.”

“You just— saved our lives,” said Sanghyuk suddenly, the realization seemingly just hitting him.

“Yes,” said Taekwoon.

Sanghyuk looked conflicted. Probably because simply being around Jaehwan was rather conducive to harboring bad feelings for him and Taekwoon supposed he could understand. He didn’t do it, expecting praise. He felt some odd sense of responsibility over them. Maybe it was just because of all the times he spent shepherding Jaehwan through his questionable life choices coupled with Hakyeon’s protectiveness over Sanghyuk. But the thought of leaving them behind hadn’t even crossed his mind. Taekwoon could be selfish but he wasn’t a monster. Or so, he hoped. 

They tried their best to navigate their way through the fuckcluster of the mansion, burning the remaining daylight as they did so. None of their phones managed to get a text through to the rest of them but Taekwoon figured that the giant, localized storm over the mansion was a big enough clue to the others that something had gone wrong during their house tour and they would be a bit delayed.

Any conversation that would have been made was stifled by the fact that two out of the three of them had almost just been turned into a golden statue for the rest of their lives. Jaehwan, in particular, seemed to be more shaken up by that than Taekwoon would have thought, considering their rather high risk lifestyle. 

Jaehwan seemed to be in quite the rush to make it back into the Odyssey and as soon as they stepped out of those cursed double doors, he made a beeline back to the van. Sanghyuk lingered, in no hurry to follow him in, matching Taekwoon’s languid stroll.

Sanghyuk shuffled his feet a little, clearly unsure of how to approach this, “I know Jaehwan won’t say anything about it to you but— thank you for what you did back there. And,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “Sorry about getting put out of commission kind of early. I swear we would have helped.”

Taekwoon laughed, a little startled noise. Sanghyuk sounded almost like a child being forced to sit out of the fight. He could see why he and Jaehwan got along so well. He shook his head, though, “I wouldn’t want someone else’s blood on your hands. Even if he did try to kill us first.” 

“You could have just taken the medallion and ran,” said Sanghyuk, “But you didn’t.” 

“I didn’t.” 

A sort of hidden understanding passed between them, unrecognized by Jaehwan. 

They walked on. 

— 

“Taekwoon,” the voice sounded so far away. 

He looked down at his body. This body was his but he couldn’t control it, he couldn’t move his limbs. The more he tried, the more it felt like his arms were made of stone. So this is what it felt like to be a puppet on a string. 

His eyes were open but he couldn’t see. 

The darkness grew deeper and consumed his mind. Then, he was looking down again, but— no. No, he couldn’t relive this again. Try as he might, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jaehwan’s limp body beneath him and the worst part was his eyes. His eyes that stared up at the sky above, glassy and gone. He wanted to leave, he wanted to run far away from his bloodied hands. He wanted to destroy the sword he used to take Jaehwan’s life.

The sheer guilt and terror of that night rooted him in place, slamming into him in waves. He could feel his body trembling and he could do nothing to stop it. 

His vision blurred, hazy in the fire and the tears that clouded his eyes. Those were his hands driving a jagged dagger again and again into Jaehwan’s chest. Taekwoon wanted to choke, to sob, to flee. But the blood kept flowing, noxious and thick. The invisible force grabbed at his arms, and he stared in horror as he reached into Jaehwan’s empty chest and pulled out his still beating heart.

“Taekwoon!” the voice was louder this time and Taekwoon jolted awake. 

He was sweating and trembling, the cold air leaving goosebumps on his skin. His blank tank top clung to his frame and he bit his lip as Hakyeon held him close to his own body. “Hey, shh, you’re alright,” Hakyeon murmured, kissing the top of Taekwoon’s head, “You’re alright.” 

Taekwoon couldn’t help but feel foolish in the face of his own mind. He shivered, pulling the blanket up. “I’m sorry,” he said immediately, guilt wrenching at his heart when he knew that Hakyeon would have a hard time going back to sleep after this.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Hakyeon whispered and Taekwoon was grateful for the low, soothing tone of his voice.

“You are still too good for me,” said Taekwoon wryly, not caring that Hakyeon made a little disbelieving noise. 

Taekwoon exhaled slowly, laying down again next to Hakyeon and listening to the steady beat of his heart. His past haunted him with a vengeance that he would never be able to shake. He wondered if Jaehwan felt the same way too.

He thought it to be a cruel twist of irony that even though he was the one who survived that fight all those centuries ago, he was still paying the price because of course he was destined to be born into a world that couldn’t even let its dead rest in peace. 

Taekwoon stared dully up at the ceiling.

He just prayed that in this world, there was still a chance for him yet.

— 

Jaehwan awoke, his breath coming in short, quick breaths. He shut his eyes tightly, his hands fisted in the sheets. He had thought he was being nondisruptive. It had been awhile since he had a nightmare bad enough to wake him up in the middle of the night, like this.

He inhaled deeply, the air choking his lungs instead of calming him down. Jaehwan swallowed thickly, hanging his head and trying to think of anything that would chase the dream away. They always started the same way: with those terrible last moments with Taekwoon but sometimes they continued and developed into something worse.

Jaehwan wished he could forget his nightmares as easily as mundane dreams slipped away from his memory bank. He wondered what it said about him that it was more terrifying now to be stuck in the quicksand, watching the world run by him as he was helpless to do anything. 

He couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped in his own body, looking out. His mind had conspired against him, pummelling him with every worst case scenario. He watched as all his friends fell, one by one, as he stood by, nothing more than an observer and his heart felt so tired, his brain was wrung out emotionally. Jaehwan wanted to sob, to banish these imaginations that felt as real as memories. Accepting his own inevitable death was easier than even imagining the lives of his friends cut short. Hell, he wouldn’t even want to see Taekwoon go, as foreign as that thought was to him. 

Sanghyuk turned over, blinking sleepily at him. It didn’t take him too long to figure out why Jaehwan was awake. He sat up, pulling Jaehwan closer and he let his head fall onto Sanghyuk’s shoulder, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. 

Jaehwan traced absent-minded patterns onto the skin of Sanghyuk’s arm because that was easier to focus on than the haunting image of lowering Sanghyuk into an early grave. Outside, the crickets chirped, restless.

“Do you want to talk about it?” asked Sanghyuk quietly.

Some days, he wanted so badly to tell Sanghyuk about the thoughts that plagued his mind, day in and day out. But he couldn’t bear to break Sanghyuk’s heart and be the cause of his worry. He knew that it would probably come back to bite him in the long run, not telling Sanghyuk about what he saw in that scrying bowl all those months ago but every time the words lingered on the tip of his tongue, he— he couldn’t. 

“No,” said Jaehwan, “It was just a dream.”

Blearily, he remembered the conversation him and Taekwoon had that morning. He wondered if he was awake too. Jaehwan wondered if Taekwoon ever felt as helpless against the invisible hand of fate as he did. He wondered if Taekwoon was ever stronger than him to fight back and stand his ground, resolving to try and take control of his own life. He wondered if there would ever be a day when they weren’t on each other’s minds.

Sometimes it felt like a curse to never be able to be rid of one another.

Jaehwan hadn’t realized how quiet his soul had been without Taekwoon. It was like his soul yearned to be close to Taekwoon’s and it wasn’t as if Jaehwan had a choice in the matter. He was not Taekwoon’s and Taekwoon was not his.

He turned to kiss Sanghyuk’s neck, his jaw. One day, he would tell Sanghyuk everything. He would sit and tell him about all of his lives that lead him to this one. And he would tell him about how grateful he was to be able to choose him amidst the chaos that they found themselves in.

If he ever got the chance, Jaehwan would tell him how love wasn’t always a choice but if he had to do it all over again, he would choose Sanghyuk in a heartbeat.

Jaehwan closed his eyes.

He just wanted more time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Sorry this chapter was a little late cries I am a very slow editor and writer  
> -Speaking of, I'll be taking a bit of a break from working on Atlas mostly because of real life. Things. But I'll be back and writing as soon as I can!  
> -You can contact me on [twitter](twitter.com/jaehwandred) and/or [tumblr](chanstraeus.tumblr.com) and I'm pretty sure I have my ask.fm and curiouscat link as a pinned tweet on my twitter if you want to send me something there!


	13. Chapter 13

The cold, impersonal medal of the medallion rested in the palm of his hand. The grooves and outlines of the designs pressed against his skin, patterns that Jaehwan had already memorized simply by running his fingers over the contours that formed the images and words that so reminded him of home. The medallion once belonged to his father. Even now, he could feel the remnants of his power, his presence emanating from the medallion but it was tainted, traces of impure gold and the zing of lightning muddling its strength. 

He idly wondered how such an artifact could find its way into Midas’ clutches. By nature, artifacts that once belonged to the gods themselves were temperamental, sensitive, and elusive. In his experience, Jaehwan found that those principles applied doubly so to anything that belonged to his father. The medallion warmed unnaturally hot in his hand, unhappy at the prospect of prolonged human contact but Jaehwan ignored it, turning it over to the etching of Cerberus on the other side with a faint smile of nostalgia on his face. 

Jaehwan supposed himself lucky that he had a more cordial relationship with his father than most demigods did. Taekwoon barely knew his. 

He spent nearly as much of his teenage years riding into battle with Taekwoon as he did chasing after Cerberus and wandering those onyx black palace halls. This medallion must have come from his father’s bedside table. Maybe Hades had gifted it to someone or perhaps some bizarre encounters of chance and fate ejected it out into the surface world.

It was so ordinary, so plain, so easily swept under the rug and forgotten. Invisible. 

The name Hades meant Invisible.

It was only meant to honor his helm, but Jaehwan knew that his father’s name would rather be forgotten by most because no one wanted to attract the attention of death. Jaehwan frowned a little, leaning against Hongbin’s desk. Was his fate simply to be as forgotten as his father was? Vilified and cursed, though neither of them did anything wrong? 

He thought of the way his father toiled away beneath the earth in the Underworld, stern and fair yet hated for the job he was assigned while his two brothers were glorified in the realm of the sky and the sea. How lonely it was to be surrounded by the dead with only his own thoughts for company. 

Jaehwan thought that maybe he was just unlucky to have been originally born in a time when all of his half siblings were persecuted and run into the ground. He remembered the fear in his mother’s eyes when his powers first manifested and the tears in her eyes when he was found and taken away, locked behind the palace bars.

The people feared what they couldn’t understand and comprehend. How could such dark powers ever be used for good? No one ever lit a candle to remember the villains. No one ever wept for the ones who fell in the dark. But he understood how they felt. 

Even Jaehwan ran from the notion of dying. He wasn’t ready to let go of life, of love, of the sun on his skin and the earth beneath of his feet. He still didn’t know how to face the inevitably of it all, and he didn’t think that he would ever know. 

Jaehwan curled his hand around the medallion, feeling its energy low in his veins, through his spirit. He felt oddly reluctant to let go of it, as if simply by heritage, he was its true owner. He really hoped it wasn’t cursed. Wouldn’t that be grand.

He brought it up to the candlelight. The dancing flame illuminated the inscriptions on the flip side more carefully. Inscribed was the Roman depiction of his father, sitting alone on his throne, surrounded by eternal flame. 

At the bottom of the medallion, his fingertips ran over the inscribed words.

 _Non Omnis Moriar_.

“I shall not wholly die,” murmured Jaehwan.

— 

The map sung with the medallion’s energy when Hongbin connected the two. Lights lit up along the parchment, blazing a path through where they had previously traveled and up the coast to their destination. The line traveled and snaked through the towns and detours they took, curving through Canada and up to Alaska. 

It was odd and almost anticlimactic to see everything so cleanly planned out in front of them. Maybe it was just because the whole thing had felt like some kind of wayward adventure, a group of friends charging off into the unknown, a vanguard against some great evil. But there it was. A path to the end. 

That thought seemed to have traveled through their band because Hakyeon said, “So this is it, then. The answer to what we were looking for.” 

Hongbin’s voice was pragmatic, “We’ll be there just a little after New Years.” 

“Earlier if you just drive fast,” Wonsik joked. 

Hongbin sighed.

“Is this also factoring in the crazy Christmas and New Year festivities we are most definitely planning?” Jaehwan asked. 

Sanghyuk gave him a look.

“What?” he asked indignantly. 

“Jaehwan never has his priorities in order,” said Taekwoon, “Don’t mind him.” 

“Alcohol is the correct priority,” said Jaehwan stoutly.

“Alcohol is not the correct priority,” said Hongbin, though Jaehwan could hear the amusement in his voice. “But I still don’t want to miss Christmas this year.”

Jaehwan looked up, mischief dancing at the edge of his expression, “Is this going to be like last year when I found out that you got Wonsik— “ 

Wonsik nearly knocked Sanghyuk over in his haste to slap his hand over Jaehwan’s mouth to muffle him. “I thought we agreed to never discuss that,” he hissed. 

“If you don’t move your hand, Jaehwan will actually lick you,” said Sanghyuk solemnly.

Wonsik moved his hand back as if he had been electrocuted. Jaehwan hadn’t actually licked him but he had certainly thought about it. Hongbin struggled to not look like he was mortified that Jaehwan had almost spilled an old anecdote to the rest of them while Sanghyuk and Hakyeon laughed themselves to stitches over Wonsik’s garbled expression. 

In between his own laughter, Jaehwan realized with a hollow ache in his chest that he would miss this. The end that once seemed so far away was steadily drawing closer and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to accept that yet. He wanted to drag his feet in the ground and prolong everything just so he could savor every moment spent with these people that were dearer to him than he realized. But he knew the rest of them had their own lives to lead and their own adventures to chase after this was over. 

Jaehwan forced himself to push those thoughts away. No, he still had time. 

He caught Sanghyuk’s eye and realized that Sanghyuk would miss all of this too.  
— 

Sanghyuk looked and felt like death but— well, it was 5:30 in the morning. He would cut himself some slack this time. He turned the faucet off with a squeak, smoothing his hair out in the unlit mirror in the dark bathroom. He glanced through the doorway into the bedroom. 

Underneath the covers, Jaehwan’s dark and unruly hair stood out against the light sheets, chest rising and falling slowly in sleep. He looked so peaceful and Sanghyuk wouldn’t take it upon himself to crawl back into bed and risk waking him up. He knew that Jaehwan already rarely got any sleep. It was rare for him to be the one that was up and about, but there was something about the early morning lately that seemed to call to them.

There was something unreal about the feeling of insomnia hours, Sanghyuk reflected, as he padded out into the shared hallway between the rooms in his fuzzy winter socks. For half a second, his sleep addled brain thought he was back in his dorm’s hallway, preparing for winter break. He blinked again, awake. 

Soft rainbow lights trailed from one end to the other, Christmas stockings hanging from the walls off push pins. He thought he recognized Hakyeon’s handwriting denoting whose stocking was whose. He must have done this when everyone else went to sleep. Sanghyuk glanced into Jaehwan’s stocking and wasn’t surprised at all to find it filled to the brim with sweets and candy canes. 

The lights twinkled off the suspended snowflake decorations, twirling like a ballerina under Sanghyuk’s fingertips, catching a spectrum of rainbow and splaying a dance of lights upon the beige wall. 

A second shadow approached and somehow, Sanghyuk knew who it was before he even spoke. 

“I don’t understand why he went through all this trouble,” said Taekwoon quietly, his hands in the pockets of his sweatpants, tank top hanging loosely off his broad frame.

Sanghyuk shrugged, taking a step back and looking at it all. This wasn’t much compared to Hakyeon’s normal fare and it was probably killing him to not have a real Christmas tree. “Maybe he just wants to make it feel like we’re family,” he suggested, “You know how he is.”

Taekwoon appeared pensive and his voice was almost awestruck, “He is— ridiculously thoughtful.” 

He spent so much time making fun of Hakyeon for being an overbearing mother that he was. Sanghyuk never really took enough time to see Hakyeon in a softer light. It was weird to think about. “How are you holding up after Midas?” asked Sanghyuk. “Did I ever get the chance to really thank you for that?”

Taekwoon shifted his stance slightly, “I wouldn’t have left you two,” he said, “No matter what Jaehwan will try to tell you.”

“He hasn’t said anything, actually,” said Sanghyuk.

“Really?”

Sanghyuk made a noise somewhere in between a scoff and a laugh, “I don’t think he knows how to feel about it.” 

“That I would risk my life to save his?”

“Yeah.”

Taekwoon looked down, face as unreadable as ever, “He’s still my strongest soul bound, even if he doesn’t understand. I— I don’t mean that— ” 

“No, no, I know,” he said affirmatively, “I know that there’s always going to be different kinds of love, Taekwoon. I don’t think I’ll ever really understand what you two are but— I don’t know. You know that he could never hate you, right? He told me that he’s tried and he just can’t. I think, in some way, he— still loves you too.” 

There was quiet between them, a restful stillness in between words. Several months ago, Sanghyuk never could have imagined that he would be having this kind of conversation with Taekwoon. Or, well, any kind of conversation at all. But somewhere in between the lines of the tangled ballad of the twin souls, there was still a human at its core.

“You are incredibly perceptive about this all,” said Taekwoon finally. 

“Don’t expect this often. I’m only able to be philosophical from the hours of one to five A.M.,” he said. 

Taekwoon chuckled a little, shaking his head, “I believe that applies to everyone.”

Sanghyuk wondered if Jaehwan would be upset that he found it so easy to spend time in Taekwoon’s company. It felt almost like fraternizing with the enemy, but weren’t the six of them all working toward the same goal? He thought of the moments in which he saw Jaehwan begin to soften toward Taekwoon. The past couldn’t be erased but the present could be changed. 

“Just your typical cheery Christmas Eve conversations,” joked Sanghyuk.

Taekwoon looked confused, “It’s not Christmas Eve today?” 

Sanghyuk raised his eyebrow, pulling his phone out. “December 24th? You’ve stayed up all night, haven’t you?” 

Taekwoon didn’t even bother looking ashamed of his life decisions, “You never have to worry about waking up in the morning if you never fall asleep in the first place.” 

“What is it with everyone’s fucked up sleep schedule lately?” he asked.

“We’re demigods,” pointed out Taekwoon, “I think that comes with who we are.”

“Maybe everyone should just get copious amounts of Nyquil for Christmas,” said Sanghyuk.

“That would be better than giving nothing,” said Taekwoon, “I hadn’t even realized Christmas was so close. With all that has been going on, I didn’t have much time to— think about the festivities.”

“None of us did,” said Sanghyuk, leaning against the wall, careful not to disturb the taped lights. “I wish I could have gotten something for Jaehwan.”

“And I, for Hakyeon,” he said.

Sanghyuk frowned a little, “I mean, I don’t— know how serious Jaehwan and I are but it kind of sucks that this is how our first Christmas will be together, you know?” 

Taekwoon asked, “What would you normally have done?”

He deliberated for a moment. He thought that no matter what he said, Taekwoon would probably think him young, immature, foolish in love. Sanghyuk had never had much trouble coming to terms with his own sexuality. It was more like he never had many opportunities to accept it and express it. Sanghyuk gestured vaguely with his hand, “I don’t know—just— the normal couple stuff, I guess, right? I want to go window shopping with him and worry about what he really wants for Christmas and get hot chocolate and take pictures under the lights and— I don’t know, what else? Go ice skating or something?” Sanghyuk laughed a little, realizing he probably sounded like he was rambling but Taekwoon’s expression was fond and understanding. 

It was a little weird to realize that despite Taekwoon feeling so much _older_ than him, maybe he wanted some of the same things too. The simple pleasures of love, a sunny smile in the dark of dreary winters. All of those things seemed so far away. Sanghyuk knew, rationally, that the magic of Christmas was the shared bond between friends and the moments they created for themselves. But it tugged at him sometimes— the desire to just be normal. 

“It is strange for me,” Taekwoon said suddenly, “To be stuck in between the old and the new. I imagine Jaehwan feels the same way.” He was pensive for a moment, looking past Sanghyuk and out the frosted window. Taekwoon seemed to struggle to find the words to explain to Sanghyuk a concept that he couldn’t quite grasp, “It’s— I have memories of growing up normally in your time. And now I have all my memories of my life with Jaehwan and it’s like I’m living two lives at once. When I long for normalcy, I don’t know what kind of normalcy I’m longing for.” He paused, looking down, the sharpness of his eyes softened in the light, “But I know that I hope that this time, next year, we can all have the Christmas that you long for.” 

“Isn’t it a bit idealistic to think that we’d all still keep in contact after this?” asked Sanghyuk candidly, “Would Jaehwan and I even still be together?” 

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think that you love him?”

Sanghyuk stared at him incredulously, “Geez, that’s a loaded question to ask at this time of the day.”

“I was just asking,” said Taekwoon defensively and a little petulantly.

“You can’t ‘just ask’ a question like that!” said Sanghyuk.

Sanghyuk rolled his eyes and attempted to not look awkward. Taekwoon didn’t really help matters when he continued to prod apparently to sate his own curiosity, “Well, do you?” 

Frankly, he wasn’t sure if he would ever know. Was love only valid if he was with Jaehwan for a long time? What if he only had these feelings because he was young and lived for the thrill of being tangled up in a new paramour, far away from home and neck deep in uncharted adventures? He thought of the rooftop kisses, of fighting side by side, of the feeling of being stuck in the eye of the hurricane with Jaehwan, watching as the world around them tore itself into pieces. “You told me once that you thought Jaehwan was in love with me. Because you thought that _I_ was the one that would hurt him.”

“I do not know you as well,” said Taekwoon.

Sanghyuk sighed, rubbing his temples, “I don’t know, I really don’t,” he said. He always thought of what he would say if he ever did find out Jaehwan was in love with him but even inside his mind, he shied away from the thought. He didn’t know how to be in love and he couldn’t— “I don’t know.” 

Was it anything close to love if he knew he would follow Jaehwan with reckless abandon into any foolish battle? Or was it love if he still wanted Jaehwan in his life after all was said and done? Jaehwan felt like he had imprinted himself on Sanghyuk’s heart while Sanghyuk had no say in it. 

He looked out the window.

The snow fell steadily through a hazy sky, coating the ground in a muffled blanket of frost. 

Taekwoon followed his gaze, reminiscing, “I think it must be because he’s a child of Hades but Jaehwan’s always liked the snow.”

Sanghyuk didn’t reply and instead of lapsing into silence, Taekwoon continued, “I hated winter and I still do. But Jaehwan always had his way of making winter seem not so terrible.”

He gazed outward across the dusty illusion of light, thankful for the warmth of the Odyssey. “Taekwoon,” he began cautiously, “How did you two even meet in the first place?” 

“He never told you?”

“It just never came up.” 

Taekwoon looked pensive, “I met him in the winter…” 

 

It was cold, the sting of bone biting frost unbearable to the young child dressed in rags in the palace dungeon. 

Taekwoon had huddled in between his retinue of guards, shivering as his new boots carried him down to the basement, following his king to where he wasn’t allowed to go before.

“We found a child of Hades by the border,” his father had told him in the conversational tone he used outside of court, “One of our potential future recruits for the guard. Our Captain told me of his immense ability in swordsmanship. Town was just raided by bandits and he fought them off near single-handedly but, well, we had to bring them in.” 

“I see,” said Taekwoon neutrally, “What will we do with him?”

Taekwoon winced when his step-father gave him a hearty clap on the shoulder, “Why, I was planning to leave that decision up to you.”

“Up to me,” said Taekwoon.

“You are coming of age, after all, to— ah, well, take a woman, grow up a little. You are becoming a man soon!” 

Taekwoon stared at his father, “I’m thirteen.” 

“Nearly a man!” The king encouraged. Taekwoon sighed. 

They went down and down. Taekwoon couldn’t imagine not freezing to death down here. The rest of his retinue seemed too at ease, too relaxed. 

All the gods in the Pantheon were revered and worshipped for the blessings they bestowed and the power they held. But some they worshipped because they feared. 

The offerings to Zeus were given out of praise. The offerings to Hades were an attempt to ward the King of the Underworld away from their families. Taekwoon suppressed a shudder within himself. Would this Son of Hades be some haggard, scraggly-toothed old man that reeked of death, his eyes gaunt and soulless? 

Taekwoon squared his own shoulders up, eyes looking ahead with steely resolve. His stepfather was right. He would be king one day and he had to be prepared for everything he faced. The guards parted in front of him and Taekwoon’s breath caught in his throat. 

The Son of Hades was— 

“You’re just a boy,” Taekwoon blurted out uncharacteristically. He blinked several times, feeling as if he had surprised even himself with his sudden words. 

The Son of Hades couldn’t have been any older than Taekwoon himself, with dark hair, a rather large nose, and a lanky frame that only exacerbated the oversized rags they threw on him. “I’m not just a boy,” he retorted smartly, though Taekwoon could see him shivering whether in fear of the fully armed guard or from the cold, “I’m still the best swordsman in my village.” 

That sounded almost like a challenge. The Son of Hades had spitting fire in his eyes. They screamed that he was alive and he planned to stay that way. Or he would at least go down fighting. Taekwoon thought that he rather liked that. 

“I’m Taekwoon,” he said, letting his words stand as an offering.

The king stared at him with a calculating look. Taekwoon stood his ground, ignoring his stepfather in the cold dungeon. The light of torch fire didn’t reach far enough to cover the stone between them, leaving an uncrossable expanse of cold hard rock between Taekwoon and the prison’s bars. The king had told him that it would be his decision to make in what to do with this particular demigod. 

“I’m Jaehwan,” said the Son of Hades, peering up at him. “What’s taking so long? Aren’t you here to kill me?” His voice quavered even as he said it, his fists clenching. “Best eliminate the threat before it grows up, after all.”

Taekwoon frowned and stepped forward, away from the light and into the darkness. He crouched down in front of the bars. Jaehwan’s eyes widened minutely and Taekwoon’s heart ran through his chest, energy building within him like a storm ready to unfurl. “No,” he said with quiet conviction, “I won’t let them kill you.” 

Jaehwan looked back at him with the same conviction he felt in his soul. This was what fate felt like, Taekwoon thought, as Jaehwan reached through those bars with an outstretched hand. “Can I trust you?” 

Taekwoon stared at him, at the boy he had just barely met with eyes that shone back at him and reflected his own life. He hoped that he wouldn’t regret this decision. Taekwoon clasped Jaehwan’s hand in between his and said solemnly,, “With your life.” 

 

The present snapped back with whiplash speed and suddenly, Taekwoon was staring at Sanghyuk, silhouetted against a window and a snowy sky. He closed his eyes and tried to purge his memory of the image of a young Jaehwan that had changed his life. 

Even in the dead of winter, Jaehwan had been so full of life, burning with passion and vigor like a comet blazing its trail through the sky. He didn’t know why Jaehwan spent so long chasing after Taekwoon when in retrospect, he should have been the one left in the dust. What happened? 

What happened in all those lifetimes between his first untimely death to the Jaehwan he knew now? Had Taekwoon killed his spirit too? Jaehwan used to remind him of winter because of how bright he was against the cold that robbed everyone of their spirits. He burned with the vitality that Taekwoon could never expect from someone whose ancestry was rooted in death. He never knew what he expected from Jaehwan, actually. Maybe that was why Jaehwan was always surprising him, even now. 

“It’s cold outside,” Taekwoon remarked, pressing his hand to the window pane. He remembered the times they spent, hiding from the snow and their chores inside the stables, laughing together as they fed their favorite steeds with stolen carrots from the kitchen and ducked beneath angry mares and testy stallions. His heart ached for the times they lost but they were just that— memories. Memories that he, himself destroyed because everything was already going wrong. 

He looked back at Sanghyuk. 

Perhaps Jaehwan would forever just be a memory that haunted him. Maybe the two of them were always fated to be confined to the past. He had found someone else in the present, after all.

Sanghyuk clapped a large hand on his shoulder, “I’ll see you, Taek,” he said.

Taekwoon stared at him, not really seeing. “Yeah,” he swallowed, “See you.” 

Their silhouettes crossed in front of the window, two stories that met and diverged. Taekwoon wished that this unquantifiable ache in his chest would go away. He sighed, breath coming in a short puff of annoyance. He glanced outside. 

Across the horizon, the barest peek of gold broke out over the steeple of the church.

— 

The bells tolled at dawn.

Across the way, in the trees, some birds sang their haunting melody, ascending pitches clashing with each other in minor dissonance as the snow crunched under Jaehwan’s feet. His legs didn’t feel quite steady as he lowered himself onto the wooden bench on the peripheral of the church’s graveyard. 

Jaehwan stared out over the rows of headstones, crumbling and cracked as they receded into the frozen ground. The bells rang out, metal clanging against metal in an awful symphony. He closed his eyes, burying his face in his hands. 

The bells kept ringing, ringing, the blood rushed to his head— 

Silence. 

He dwelled too long in his memories, he knew that. But sometimes it was easier to fall back into the familiarity of the past than it was to face the present. And sometimes he just wanted to remember, to feel— what it was like to once be himself. 

Jaehwan opened his eyes. The wind lifted his hair with a gentle caress, the loose black fabric of his mourner’s clothing flowing over his skin. He remembered that day clearly. The sun hovered high in the sky, but the warmth of its rays couldn’t seem to reach him as he knelt on that hill alone, his palm to the grass as if he could feel Taekwoon’s soul from there. But of course he couldn’t. 

He noted, with a taste of irony, that this was their favorite overlook over the kingdom. It was where Jaehwan once idly remarked that he would like to be buried someday, in a spot of childhood tranquility. 

Taekwoon was too important to not have something grand dedicated to him. Jaehwan had to look up to face the grand statue they built. Taekwoon’s eyes were unseeing, focused on something in the distant horizon. They caught him in the prime of his youth, when Jaehwan knew him. Poised for another battle, right hand outstretched with the power of a storm. There was no name because it was simply presumed that a great hero like him would be immortalized in the memory of all. 

They weren’t wrong, Jaehwan reflected.

Jaehwan once loved him. His mouth twisted viscerally in reaction to those words even inside his own head. But— maybe it wasn’t wrong to love someone who had pulled him from perdition. Taekwoon had been the one to lend him a shoulder to soldier on in a world that refused to accept him for who he was. After all that was said and done, he didn’t think love was a finite resource. And yet, he still felt so guilty for even having those thoughts. He felt as if he should scrub his mind clean of those impurities. Those thoughts felt strangely like he was sinning.

He didn’t think it was right to still be holding onto the past so strongly, but he couldn’t help it. Not when his past was right in front of him every day. It was like Jaehwan could reach out and reclaim the happiness that was once his, before everything went wrong. Before— 

The sunny hilltop vanished and Jaehwan was left alone at the edge of their kingdom, on the cliffs beside the ocean. He always remembered that day as stormy.

He could feel the rain, the earth, and the damp ocean breeze as if he was one with them. Jaehwan remembered the blind rage that coursed through his spirit when he realized that Taekwoon hadn’t even bothered to give him a proper burial. 

Did Taekwoon not feel any guilt for what he did? Or had he simply not wanted to face the fact that he did it?

There was no burial for him, no requiem sung— Taekwoon lead the kingdom to believe he was missing due to mysterious and unforeseen circumstances. 

Jaehwan hated that his soul still sung when Taekwoon brought his ashes to those gusty bluffs. He tried so hard to hate him and despise every bone in his body and his spirit resisted because at the end of the day, it was still Taekwoon who knelt and wept by the ocean for the one person felled by his sword that he regretted killing. But his soul was still bound to this earth with no marker that he ever walked it in the first place. Why, then did Thanatos still come for him? Why was he denied the chance to let his soul rest in peace in his father’s domain? Why— 

“Jaehwan.”

He jumped, for a second, his mind unhelpfully registered the touch on his arm as Taekwoon. 

“Are you alright?” Sanghyuk asked, his face carefully blank.

“I— “ began Jaehwan, the cold of the present rushing back to him and chilling him to the core, “Why aren’t you inside? It’s cold out.”

“I went looking for you to tell you the exact same thing,” said Sanghyuk with a slight sigh, “Should I even ask what you were doing out here alone? Trying to catch hypothermia?” 

Jaehwan smiled a bit, “Ah, yes, it was all an elaborate ploy to get you to fuss over me.”

Sanghyuk raised an eyebrow, “I wouldn’t fuss over you if it was your own damn fault that you got sick.” 

He shrugged, pretending to be sullen, “It was worth a shot.” 

Snow fluttered lightly from the sky, white flakes dusting across the earth with delicacy. The reluctant winter sun barely rose, painting broad brushstrokes of fire on a pale canvas. Dawn, Twilight. Everything always seemed to happen when the lines between day and night, heaven and earth, were blurred. Jaehwan shivered, retreating into his coat. “Come on, let’s head back,” said Sanghyuk, nudging him with his shoulder.

Jaehwan didn’t know how to explain that he didn’t think he could stand being in the Odyssey right now. It was draining to have to act like the Jaehwan they all knew lest he wanted to be faced with a barrage of ‘How are you doings’ and ‘Do you look okays’. “It’s not that cold,” he said.

Sanghyuk was quiet for a moment, his presence a warm comfort as he leaned against Jaehwan, “Okay,” he said, in a compromising tone, “We don’t have to go back to the Odyssey. But let’s go somewhere warm, at least.” 

“It’s Christmas Eve, Sanghyuk, nothing will be open,” reminded Jaehwan.

“Churches don’t close on Christmas Eve.”

“We’re— not Christian,” said Jaehwan.

“Oh my God, they’re not going to kick us out,” said Sanghyuk, exasperated, as he stood up and tugged on Jaehwan’s sleeve.

“Isn’t that blasphemous, though?” said Jaehwan, “You just said God’s name in vain, or something.” 

“Well, let’s just hope that nobody will smite me,” said Sanghyuk, forcefully hauling Jaehwan up from the bench. 

Jaehwan figured that spending even another minute on that bench would have lead to him being immortalized in an icy statue. Fuck, Sanghyuk was right. It was cold. Not that he would give him the satisfaction of being right.

It was eerily quiet as they walked through the graveyard, gravestones standing tall and absolute against the test of time, though their stories and secrets were buried with their owners. The wrought iron gate creaked as they pushed it open, boots leaving a new set of fresh footprints behind them, a tell tale trail of the path they forged. 

The streets were empty as they walked through but Jaehwan could still hear carolers in the distance. He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, their voices blending in harmony like a chorus of angels, lilting and soft. Jaehwan didn’t want to ask Sanghyuk if he heard them too. 

Down the cobblestone paces they walked, passing evergreen wreaths and pine tree sentries. The bells tolled, either in his head or through the air. They fell in step with each other, and Jaehwan felt himself inexplicably wanting to slip his hand into Sanghyuk’s. There was no one around, anyways, but— that wasn’t quite like him to want a cliche kind of romance, locked in little gestures and quiet words. Still, there existed in him an unforeseen longing to reach out and grab a hold of someone he didn’t want to let go of.

The moment passed and Sanghyuk pushed the heavy doors of the church inward. They closed behind them with a loud echo, crashing through the reverent silence that only holy buildings could command. 

It was dark, the lights turned off outside of Mass. The baptismal font stood in the foyer, metal engravings around its side, telling of stories that Jaehwan had heard and studied but dismissed as another religion’s myths. Though, he realized that the rest of the world probably thought that about demigods and their lives. 

They walked on, past the doors that separated the foyer from the rest of the church. Above them, the vaulted ceiling stretched up to the heavens, an arcade of stained glass windows flanking either side of the central aisle, brilliant colors muted in the absence of sunlight. The ceiling felt so far up, their God out of reach to the ordinary human, dwarfed in the size of the building. 

Ahead of them, the candles on the altar stilled, held in balance in the undisturbed air. Jaehwan realized, with a shock, that he had never stepped foot in a Catholic church by his own volition. He thought it was a bit grotesque to show their half naked Messiah crucified on a cross in such blown up detail in the center of the Church. But, well, he supposed he shouldn’t really judge. 

A white cloth lay over the marble altar, pristine and unblemished. He supposed in a couple hours from now, the Church would be full again, full of worshippers in a Christmas vigil.

Jaehwan stood in the center of the aisle, fixated on that altar. 

“What are you thinking about?” asked Sanghyuk, his whisper still deceptively loud in the space. “You’re always thinking about something and you never tell me.”

Jaehwan felt a twinge of guilt, looking away from the altar. “I know,” he said, quietly, “And I’m sorry. I just— haven’t had someone that I could trust for a very long time.”

“You don’t feel like you can trust me?” asked Sanghyuk, stiffening. 

“No,” said Jaehwan a little too quickly, “No, that’s— that’s not it. I guess I just don’t know how to tell you what’s on my mind without feeling like I’m burdening you.”

Sanghyuk seemed confused, “You’re not burdening me, though. I talk about anything and everything with you and you know that. Have you ever felt like you didn’t want to deal with my thoughts anymore?”

Jaehwan sighed, “No,” he admitted.

“What was on your mind?”

He laughed a little, shaking his head, “It’s stupid.”

“Well,” said Sanghyuk pragmatically, “About half of the stuff that comes out of your mouth is a bit…” 

Jaehwan rolled his eyes, pushing Sanghyuk. The tension between them ebbed away as quickly as it came as he went to go take a seat in one of the pews. “I was literally just thinking about the first time Taekwoon and I saw a priest sacrifice a goat. It was an offering to— err, Demeter, I think? Apparently, I nearly fainted and Taekwoon had to sneak me out during the ceremony to make sure I didn’t pass out.” Before Sanghyuk could laugh at him, he held up a finger, “But to be fair, I had a front row seat and I was, like, twelve.”

“Your thought process astounds me,” said Sanghyuk drily, “You’re always thinking about him, aren’t you?”

The unexpected weight in that question made Jaehwan pause, leaning back in the stiff wooden seat, “No,” he said as truthfully as he could, “Just— lately, I guess. Things have been a little weird between us.”

“I can tell,” said Sanghyuk neutrally.

“I never thought that reconciliation would ever be a possibility between us,” said Jaehwan, “And now, suddenly, that’s on the table. And everything good I remember about him, about us, is coming back because it’s becoming so— unnecessarily difficult to hate him again. Nothing is just simple anymore.”

“You still love him, Jaehwan,” said Sanghyuk with an odd sort of finality, “Don’t bother arguing when I know it’s true. I can feel it.”

Jaehwan felt like an unspoken secret was just laid out for the whole world to see, but it lacked the kind of earth shattering impact he thought it would have. Sanghyuk just looked at him, in the darkness of the church, holding his breath.

He felt it wrong to speak anything but the truth in a holy space, even if it was not his holy space, “Yeah,” he said, the word rolling off his tongue like a sigh of relief from holding onto a burden for too long, “I guess I do. But I love him like a brother. I can’t get rid of him if I tried, apparently, but I know now that there’s no way we could be with each other romantically. I remember feeling, no, knowing that I would follow him anywhere. Even beyond the grave. But with you— “ His mind stuttered to a stop. “I— Sanghyuk, please know that I would give anything I had to make sure you don’t meet death until it’s truly time for you to do so. But if it ever came to that, I would follow you beyond the grave and further. I love Taekwoon like I love Hongbin and Wonsik. But you are not like any of them. You’re nothing like Taekwoon. I— “

“Jaehwan,” said Sanghyuk, almost a warning.

“I’m sorry,” he said hastily.

“For what? Just don’t say something that you don’t mean,” cautioned Sanghyuk, sounding more guarded than he had ever heard him.

“You think I wouldn’t mean it?” asked Jaehwan quietly. 

“I want to believe that you would,” said Sanghyuk, sounding like he was forcing the words out, “But you are— you. You’ve been alive for longer than I can imagine and you expect me to believe that in all these lifetimes, you would choose to say that to me and mean it? How many other people have you felt the same way about and forgotten because you can’t possibly remember them all? There is no reason to think that I’m somehow special in the grand scheme of your life when I feel like you are so important in mine.” 

“Sanghyuk, every life could be my last. I don’t choose to love people knowing that one day they’ll die and I’ll move on. But just because I’ve loved other people, that doesn’t mean my feelings for you are any less,” he said. “I know that I’m stuck in the past but if I were to have some kind of future, when all of this is done, I would choose to have it with you.”

Sanghyuk exhaled sharply, a little smile playing on his lips as he rolled his eyes, “Do you use these kind of words to woo everyone?”

“Nope,” said Jaehwan brazenly, “Just you.” 

He laughed, sounding oddly breathless, “For you, I’ll believe that.”

Jaehwan was as good as damned, he thought, as he brought Sanghyuk’s hand up to his lips. He pressed kisses to every knuckle, the pads of his finger tips, and he leaned his cheek into Sanghyuk’s palm when he cupped his face. He knew, then, how St. Sebastian felt, bound to a stake and shot full of arrows. With Sanghyuk, it was a slow death by knowing that no matter what Jaehwan promised, there would be no future no matter how hard he fought for it. He was giving himself hope and robbing himself of it. 

With every word, every moment, Jaehwan felt like he was bleeding out, but he was already in too deep. How did he manage to become absolutely smitten with the one person in the Odyssey who challenged and teased and prodded him every step of the way? 

Maybe because Sanghyuk was grounded in the present and he kept Jaehwan there too.

Still, he still remembered how Sanghyuk’s fingers felt against his that first night on the Odyssey’s roof when he handed him that flower. _This, and this, and this_ , he had said as he swept his arm across the Nevada desert, his powers flowing and conjuring fanciful animals and flowers for Sanghyuk’s amusement. 

“And what is it that you like about me?” Sanghyuk had asked him yesterday, to the background of whatever forgettable Netflix show they had put on to fill the evening’s quiet. 

Jaehwan remembered kissing every part of Sanghyuk’s face he could reach, his hand over the steady pulse of Sanghyuk’s heart. _This, and this, and this_. He loved every part of him, though it broke his heart to do so. Every deathless death was worth it if at the end of the day, he could still call Sanghyuk his.

Sanghyuk leaned in and kissed him. Jaehwan’s eyes fell shut, his hand coming to grip the front of Sanghyuk’s shirt. Oh, this wasn’t fair. Sanghyuk kissed him so tenderly it felt as if he was going to fall apart. 

Sanghyuk kissed him like they had all the time in the world, his large hand warm against Jaehwan’s cheek as they lost track of time within each other. Jaehwan pulled him closer, kissing his jaw, mouthing at the exposed skin of his neck when Sanghyuk tipped his head back. 

Unblemished sunlight shone through the high stained glass windows, illuminating Sanghyuk’s blown pupils. Jaehwan pulled back to laugh at him, “Sacrilegious,” he said, teasing.

“What?” asked Sanghyuk, running his hand down Jaehwan’s back, “Scared we’ll get caught?”

“No,” said Jaehwan, his hand resting not quite innocently on Sanghyuk’s thigh, “But I won’t do anything in a church, watched by the giant statue of Jesus Christ on a Stick. You know,” he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial tone, “You know, we don’t have to be in a church to get me on my knees. You could always just ask.”

“Ha,” deadpanned Sanghyuk, “Except that I usually don’t have to ask most of the time. You’re always so eager to— “

“You know what?” said Jaehwan suddenly, “Nevermind. Forget I said anything. I regret ever following you in here I should have just kept sulking outside.”

Sanghyuk let out a huff of laughter, “Nobody was making me you follow me.”

“I know,” conceded Jaehwan, “But I wanted to.”

And as the sun rose, filling the windows with light and flooding the church with color, Jaehwan gazed upon Sanghyuk and realized, with conviction, that he would be at Sanghyuk’s side until his dying days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Hahahaaaaa I'm back oops  
> -I had no idea that I would be on hiatus for this long and I am so sorry about that. I had a lot of personal issues come up in the past month or so and my life's been incredibly busy and I'm sorry this chapter was so short despite the long wait but I'm going to try my best to get back on a normal publishing schedule  
> -I have a [twitter](twitter.com/jaehwandred) and a [tumblr](chanstraeus.tumblr.com) so feel free to hit me up at either of those  
> -Comments and kudos are super appreciated!


	14. Chapter 14

Christmas passed by in a blur.

Jaehwan tried to catch its coattails and just barely missed, his last Christmas slipping through his fingers. The individual days in the Odyssey dragged by, hour after hour, but he blinked and weeks flew by. Neither him or Sanghyuk had ended up with enough time to buy each other a gift, but the look of comical relief on Sanghyuk’s face when they both realized that they were off the hook was gift enough.

Then, of course, after dinner, Sanghyuk had grabbed his scarf and pulled him to the bedroom and, well— if Jaehwan was just being honest with himself, Sanghyuk had basically fucked the life out of him with little tact. But, okay, it was Christmas so maybe he should rephrase it in his end to something like: Sanghyuk and him made love in front of the fireplace.

And then, apparently, he had been too drunk to remember most of New Years. 

According to a very tired Hongbin the next day, he had repeatedly insisted that he could keep drinking and nobody could stop him.

And nobody stopped him.

In his defense, Jaehwan figured that if he was going to bite the dust in the next couple of months, he was going to live life with reckless abandon, even if it was in the aspects of his life that didn’t really matter. It wasn’t like he needed to worry about his kidney when he was most likely going to die to injuries sustained in a dramatic and ground-breaking battle. 

He just wished he had the courage to tell Sanghyuk that he was going to die. Nothing seemed to matter in the grand scheme of things anymore except for that. 

Jaehwan dreamed often of what death— a true death would feel like. Would it be like his dreams? In them, he was a lost man, struggling to break through the endless fog that filled his lungs with a poisonous, sickly sweet ambrosia. He ran toward nothing, he saw nothing. A sense of deep seated dread settled over him, weighing him down with a sense of hopeless apathy. He only knew that it was coming, not when or how. All he could do was wait.

He supposed it would be fitting for the quest to be tied to his own lifeline. If they freed the god of death, the god of death would be free to take him. 

_Non Omnis Moriar_ , the words echoed hauntingly in his mind. _I shall not wholly die._

Even with Jaehwan’s desire to prolong their journey for as long as possible, Hongbin’s predictions had been more or less correct. They had crossed into Alaska several days ago and Jaehwan had never been colder in his life.

Still, Sanghyuk’s driving felt painfully slow. 

“I’m going speed limit,” said Sanghyuk.

“That is _not_ speed limit. We’re pretty much crawling right now,” argued Jaehwan.

Sanghyuk snorted, “So you’re saying that you’re completely fine with the possibility of spinning off the road because of the ice and all six of us dying because you wanted to get to our destination five minutes faster?”

“Now you’re just being dramatic,” Jaehwan teased.

Their speed did increase marginally after that and the little arrow icon on Sanghyuk’s propped up phone picked up speed correspondingly. It was a little depressing realizing that even Google Maps showed a completely straightaway road for the next hour or so when it seemed like they had been driving like this for hours on end already. It was his job to keep Sanghyuk awake, but that task was becoming increasingly difficult as he found himself wanting to doze off.

They were lucky that it was a clear day, snow piled on either sides of the road, the terrain growing more mountainous as they continued through. Through the trees, Jaehwan thought that he could spot a frozen lake and his suspicions were semi-confirmed by Sanghyuk’s phone narrating in a calm voice, “Turn left onto Salmon Creek Dam drive. Your destination will be on your left.”

Sanghyuk made a vaguely surprised noise. “Really?” he asked, “We’re here already?”

Jaehwan peered out the window as Sanghyuk dubiously turned off the main street and downhill, “I don’t know, are we just following the GPS and hoping for the best?” He snuck a glance at Sanghyuk then said casually, “What’s the place on the maps called? Salmon Creek Dam? It would be a dam shame if you fucked up and we got lost.”

Sanghyuk took his eyes off the road to glare at Jaehwan, “Maybe if you took out maps and the artifacts, that would be a little more helpful,” he paused, obviously trying to resist the urge to play along with Jaehwan’s silliness, “We’d be as good as dam-ed if we ended up stranded out here.”

Jaehwan side-eyed Sanghyuk and stifled his laughter as he pulled out the map from Hermes, laying it on the dashboard. This particular system of navigation seemed even more out of place when set next to Sanghyuk’s iPhone, but when paired with Poseidon’s statuette and the medallion of the House of Hades, Hongbin’s carefully hand drawn lines sprawled across the enchanted fabric. The line of light that traced their current road pulsed strongly, urging them to follow it. The elysium coins in Jaehwan’s pocket warmed, encouraging them down the path.   
The electronic voice from Sanghyuk’s phone said, “You have arrived.”

“But I guess our fancy magical sources want us to keep going,” said Jaehwan. 

The Elysium coins vibrated in his pocket as they both looked up, peering through the windshield. Their luck shifted when snow began to fall from the once clear sky, coming down heavily upon them. They exchanged a glance and Jaehwan knew what he was thinking. To depart from the real road and follow their own sources felt like they were leaving the safety of the normal world behind to step into their own distorted fantasy. 

Sanghyuk’s mouth worried into a thin line, but he drove forward into the building flurry. Hongbin must have worked overtime to make sure their minivan was well equipped to deal with the snow but he could still hear the engine struggling down the scraggly excuse for a road, tires struggling to find their proper traction. 

The sound of branches cracking underneath sounded like the snapping of brittle bones and Jaehwan had to suppress a shudder at the accidentally conjured mental image of the Odyssey driving carelessly over ice brittled skeletons.

Although the forest became sparser as they continued, it was difficult to see more than several feet in front of them, even with the car’s headlights slicing through the snow. 

The car shook, every bump in the road sending larger than usual tremors through its frame. Jaehwan found himself unconsciously tightening his grip on the car door as Sanghyuk went completely silent, concentrated on not wrecking their car. He snuck a glance at his phone. He didn’t really think there would be service and they were demigods, but he wasn’t sure if he liked the thought that if they were stranded out there, they couldn’t exactly call for help from the local authorities.

In his pocket, the Elysium coins began to hum, a foreboding building of energy. The coins themselves weren’t the source of any malicious energy, but they pinged at him in warning. The engravings on his father’s medallion came to life, Cerberus bounding within the confines of the medal, his phantom barking filling Jaehwan’s mind. Poseidon’s statue remained static, either not reacting to anyone but to a Son of Poseidon or simply remaining stoic in the face of death. Either way, Jaehwan knew they were close. The pull of death was strangely sweet to his soul, like it was calling him back home. 

Jaehwan looked resolutely forward. They were coming for Thanatos.

— 

The land looked unnaturally frozen over, like the cold had swept through and killed everything in its path, sparing no mercy for the nature left behind. Jaehwan didn’t like it, the way the chill sunk deep into the chambers of his heart, insidious in its supernatural ways. The trees parted in a circular formation, frozen solid at their roots around a lake.

The Odyssey was incongruous with its surroundings and Jaehwan really wished they had shelled out the money last summer to get it repainted because it kind of ruined the whole dramatic movie scene aesthetic they had going. If they were going to park a minivan in the middle of Alaska on their way to free the god of death, it really didn’t have to be that particular shade of red. He tried to ignore it when he caught sight of it in his peripheral vision.

They followed Hongbin out, everyone looking significantly bulkier when all dressed in winter clothes. Jaehwan didn’t particularly like how slow and cumbersome he felt in it because whatever happened, he knew they would be in for a fight.

Thanatos was a relative peaceful god, all things considered, but Jaehwan knew from experience that he never went down easily. Whatever Gaea had sent to subdue him must have either done it by surprise or possess more than enough power to pummel their little team of six demigods into the ground. 

He pushed his trepidation down. It wouldn’t do to let his doubts drown him. If it came to a fight, Jaehwan was going to make sure they came out of it on top.

An ice mound jutted out of the center of the lake, its jagged edges wrapped thricefold in chains. There was no doubt that Thanatos was there, captive on the other side of the icicle. But it was too simple, too easy, for someone to leave their prize just sitting out there in the open. Everything enticed them to go in, and every cell in Jaehwan’s body screamed at him to leave this trap. 

The earth itself seemed like it wanted to close them in, boulders and rocky crags rising around the lake. Jaehwan forced himself to exhale, curling his gloved fingers in his pockets. They had to do this. They had to free Thanatos.

Hongbin paused on the edge of the lake.

There was enough hesitation in that first step to put even Wonsik on edge. The ice remained firm even after Hongbin grew brave enough to step fully out. He glanced back briefly and Hakyeon stepped out with him, the ice at his feet losing a little more of its transparency. The solidifying effect spread through the ice as Hakyeon stepped forward, the surface spreading to support the six of them as they made their way slowly across the ice, making themselves painfully easy targets. 

Every one of them stood in stark contrast to the ice and for the first time, Jaehwan wished that they weren’t all quite so tall. It seemed as if an unspoken agreement rippled through the six of them to be sparse with their words. Usually, they would, at the very least, be exchanging sharp banter or confirming plans but in speaking, it felt as if it would ruin the sacred sanctity that came with their current safety.

Hakyeon stepped forward, leading the way, with Taekwoon bringing up the rear, the air’s temperature around him significantly warmer and devoid of snow. 

Jaehwan tried to mentally prepare himself for whatever they were about to encounter. Thanatos was immortal like the rest of his brethren on Mount Olympus, but Gaea’s power loomed over them, the extent of it unknown. He could still be severely incapacitated and if Gaea had somehow managed to find a way to lull Thanatos into a slumber, Jaehwan wasn’t sure what the plan was. And that was without taking into consideration the fact that Jaehwan had kind of sort of taken Thanatos’ gift of a second life and run off into the sunset with it, never even taking the time to send a little ‘Thank You Card’. And that was about a thousand years ago. Give or take. It sort of felt like showing up to a family reunion and having to face his scary uncle who would most likely pull him aside and beat his ass. Theoretically. 

The frost melted away from the chains under Hakyeon’s touch, steam rising in the air. Jaehwan caught Sanghyuk’s attention, their eyes meeting across the group. Sanghyuk inclined his head ever so slightly, and it was the only little show of support that Jaehwan needed. 

He gathered his courage within himself and stepped over to the other side. 

Jaehwan gasped aloud, the sound involuntary and surprising even himself.

There lay Thanatos, god of death, and immortal in his beauty as he was all those years ago. Something deep within Jaehwan ached with the kind of awe that the ephemeral beauty of misty snow-capped mountains inspired within a person. His grace was frozen in time, his jet black wings sleek and unruffled, despite the chains binding him. Thanatos had the face of a king with high cheekbones and a narrow face, tapering off into a pointed chin. His skin was sun tanned and smooth and served only to make him look even further removed from the barren wasteland he had been trapped in. Death was something to be feared, not admired. And yet, Jaehwan stood there, finding himself inevitably drawn to the very thing that defined him as a demigod. 

“Nothing is guarding him,” said Taekwoon in a way that was uniquely him, phrasing his questions as a sentence.

“I don’t know,” said Jaehwan, his voice whisper quiet in the barren snow, “Do you think we can wake him up?”

“Maybe if we got these chains off,” suggested Wonsik.

Hakyeon stood at the fringes, casting a glance back over his shoulder, “This still feels like a trap.”

“Well,” said Hongbin, “Trap or not, this is what we’ve come for. Thanatos is the only one who has complete control over the Doors of Death so we don’t exactly have a choice.”

White hot flames leapt into the space between Hongbin’s hands, like an overzealous horse spurred on to a sudden start, “My guess is that as soon as I melt these chains, things aren’t going to go so well for us so get ready.”

“And if things do happen to go well for us, then it’ll be a pleasant surprise for once,” said Jaehwan with a touch of barely there sarcasm in his sunny voice.

Sanghyuk elbowed him and Jaehwan yelped at the injustice and the sharp pain to his stomach. He scowled at Sanghyuk, but then Hakyeon scowled at him and he quelled rather quickly under that glare. 

“On the count of three, then,” said Hongbin, the flames glowing even brighter. “One…” Out of the darkness, Jaehwan summoned his sword and out of the sky, Taekwoon claimed his. “Two…” Hakyeon wielded his dagger close to him, then on a second thought, he flipped it over in his hand, catching his dagger turned triton. Sanghyuk moved further back from the group, arrow nocked and pointed at Thanatos. Wonsik stood by Hongbin, with a spark in his finger tips and his eyes scanning the horizon. 

Hongbin inhaled deeply, “Three.”

With a decisive movement, the fire narrowed into a blade, slicing through the chains with finesse. Metal clanged against metal as the chains fell open, releasing Thanatos from his bonds.

For a moment, everything was silent, everything still as could be.

Then, his eyes flew open, golden flecked with orange as bright and piercing as the sun’s rays and like gazing into the star itself, it was just as hard to look directly at him. Jaehwan’s gaze was caught in them, transfixed. Thanatos stared forward, not really seeing. His great black wings unfurled, making them all jump back. 

Only one word was uttered from his lips.

“Run.”

The boulder cast a shadow upon the six of them.

The shadow grew larger and the boulder began to move. 

Jaehwan’s mouth gaped open and they all stared up, transfixed in awe as the mountain grew to twice its original size, unfurling like a grotesque origami monster. It stood larger than life, blotting out the sun, towering over the demigods and the nearby crouching god of death.

It felt like his past was coming to haunt him, straight from the nightmares that haunted not only him but his father before him. 

Gaea created giants to dethrone the gods of Olympus and this one, Alcyoneus, wasn’t meant to destroy just any Olympian. He was created as a direct foil to his father, one that knew his strengths and his weaknesses, and one whose sole mission was to make sure Hades never retained his power again. 

The giant’s skin shimmered metallic-gold, cracked with ice and dusted with snow. His legs were rusted and his limbs held together by platinum links. His body was embedded with some bizarre combination of precious stones and metals, and he looked like he would fetch quite a pretty price at a garage sale if someone wanted to go through the trouble of dismantling him and selling his parts. 

Oil bled through him and Jaehwan could feel the beating of the giant’s heart within his bones, even though such a thing didn’t even look like it could be considered living. 

Those stones and metals belonged to the Underworld, his father’s domain. 

Alcyoneus flexed, bearing his chest and swinging his iron rod out. He bellowed and the noise sounded like something of a cross between a locomotive engine and a lion with a terrible chest cold. 

Jaehwan shrank, his own blood running icy cold. This giant was built to be the only thing that could stand against his father and Jaehwan was only a shadow of the strength his father possessed. 

He blinked the falling snow out of his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering against his cold skin as he stared up at the giant, loud and garish against the bleak backdrop.

Today could very well be the day that he died. 

Out of the corner of his eye, black wings unfurled, as dark as night against virgin snow. Thanatos crawled forward, using his wings for balance and to propel himself up again onto his own two feet, whipping around and pivoting on his feet with his iron scythe. 

Jaehwan turned back to the giant. 

No, he decided.  
Death would not come for him today.

With a roar, the world came back and Jaehwan was frozen to the spot. A body smashed into him at full force and tackled him to the ground. An unnaturally strong wind swept them across the icy battlefield and Jaehwan heard something shatter from behind them. 

He managed to look over Sanghyuk’s shoulder for a second. A boulder sized hole in the ice had appeared where Jaehwan just stood and Hakyeon slid several feet with the grace of a dancer, holding a defensive position. From his feet, the ice solidified, the water holding them all up under his power. 

“Jaehwan, you fucking idiot!” snarled Sanghyuk, eyes wild with adrenaline, “You’re going to get us all killed.” 

“That’s Alconyeus— “ 

“I know who it is,” said Sanghyuk, quickly shutting him up, “And you can’t just have a meltdown right now because we have more important things to do. You’ll have time to do that when we’re not all dead.”

Another crash. The boulders slammed into the ice with the speed and strength of meteors and it was all Hakyeon could do to make sure they didn’t end up drowning in subzero waters. 

But despite his efforts, the ice beneath them trembled, steam rising from the spiderweb of cracks that snaked beneath them. 

The ground tilted beneath their feet, precariously off balance as the cracks grew stronger, the brittle snap of ice and breaking bones filled the air. 

A hand shot into the air, puncturing through the ice. Jaehwan and Sanghyuk stared in horror, instinctively scrambling backwards. The exposed bony fingers curled in the air, grasping for an invisible weapon. There were still tiny, rotting chunks of frozen flesh clinging onto the skinned clean bones. 

Another hand popped out, its grip solidifying on the little ice it could grab. 

Then came a repeated dull thudding, like a battering ram against a castle’s doors. Where the ice was thinner, Jaehwan realized with horror, that the dead were using their own skulls to bash against the ice to break free.

Hakyeon ground the handle of his triton into the ice, willing it to hold but he wasn’t all powerful. On the other side of the lake, all hell broke loose and the dead crawled onto the ice on all fours, dragging themselves with surprising speed to join Alcyoneus. 

This wasn’t meant to be just a trap.

This was set up with the intent to massacre.

They were fools to believe that six demigods could succeed, but they had made it this far on the words of a prophecy and luck on their side. And yet, they were the only ones who had come this far.

He grabbed Sanghyuk’s wrist, pulling them up. 

The bones of the dead creaked and groaned and the giant roared. A great dome of light rose, encapsulating the six of them and Thanatos, glowing blinding white for a moment before becoming transparent. The giant’s fist came smashing through the air, indiscriminately going for any of them, but his fist met the resistance of Hongbin’s shield. There was a sharp electrical sizzle though, and Jaehwan looked up to see the cracks in the shield as easily shatterable as the ice below them. 

With the fires of a forge, Wonsik crafted a bow and a quiver of arrows from the air, throwing it toward Sanghyuk. It was crude and nowhere near as balanced or precise as Sanghyuk’s usual arsenal but in the heat of battle, it would have to do. 

Plus, Jaehwan thought, with a mixture of practical certainty and a swell of pride, Sanghyuk was the best archer he had ever seen in all his lifetimes. 

He trusted him.

Wonsik set Sanghyuk’s arrows on fire and they flew across the way towards the army of the dead. Instead of hitting their targets though, they fell short. And at first, Jaehwan, couldn’t quite believe that Sanghyuk missed. 

But then he understood.

The arrows erupted into unnaturally white hot flames, heat waves sizzling in the cold and spreading slowly, building a wall of fire.

The dead screeched as they crawled blindly into the flames. 

Jaehwan had half a hope to think that something as simple as fire could stop them. But the dead kept coming, crawling after the charred remains of their brothers and sisters or going around the flames that Sanghyuk flung at them.

Wonsik assessed the giant like it was a problem that could be sussed out. He had always been more of a strategist, not a fighter, but he broke away from the group with Hongbin.  
Jaehwan could only hope they had some kind of plan to deal with Alcyoneus because the four of them faced a horde of the dead.

To the side, black wings beat in the air, Thanatos hovering just slightly above the ground as Hongbin and Wonsik made a mad dash for him, ignoring the army of the dead coming straight at the shield. With Hongbin gone, the shield began to crumble, disintegrating before their eyes. 

He saw Hakyeon swallow, his eyes hardening as his grip tightened around his triton. Taekwoon looked as he always did when facing a significant threat to his life — completely unbothered. Sanghyuk shifted behind him, nocking three arrows at once and pointing them skyward. 

Jaehwan readied his sword.

The army crashed around the shield with screeches that echoed through the lake and in their chests. Some of the skeletons simply shattered or streamed around the cracking barrier, but they kept coming, flinging their bodies at it. Like a dam in a flood, the shield broke and the dead overcame them in a wave. 

A split second later, the air whistled past him as the arrows landed past the four of them still standing against the army. The arrows landed in an uncannily perfect formation as only a son of Apollo could manage. The wildfire consumed whole lines of the dead, but the sea of them still came.

Jaehwan slashed out blindly, his sword shattering through bones, clacking onto the ice below. He threw his shoulder out and surged forward, relying on his speed and dexterity to maneuver around the hands that reached for him. It was a whole different game than a dance of parries and blows, though. Here, he had to cut through bodies and he threw his weight out, fighting for his life in a way he never had before. 

They could fight with every last ounce of strength in them but there was only six of them against thousands of the dead, crawling from below the lake.

Sweat beaded down Hakyeon’s neck as he swept out with his trident, his feet never leaving the ground. The ice was beginning to look shakier and shakier away from their radius and Jaehwan didn’t want to think about what would happen when Hakyeon’s strength failed him. 

Taekwoon raised a gale and Hakyeon helped turn it into a storm, isolating a group of the dead in a stormy corral where Taekwoon swung down with his sword, bringing with him a torrent of lightning. 

Sanghyuk struck out with his bow knocking down a still whole body. This particular corpse must have been freshly killed. A park ranger badge hung off his frayed khaki jacket, his bloodshot eyes lolling back in his bald skull. Jaehwan drove his sword through his heart and Sanghyuk kicked aside the corpse for good measure.

A skeleton nearby swung at Sanghyuk with a sharpened bone. He ducked, moving quickly on instinct. Jaehwan lunged out, throwing his momentum forward when Sanghyuk crashed into him. It took only one moment, one misstep and Jaehwan’s sword clattered out of his hand. 

His stygian iron sword slid across the ice and before he could register Sanghyuk’s panicked cry of, “Jaehwan, no!”, he shoved his way past the horde blocking his way, driven by his single minded sense of purpose. He didn’t care if Wonsik would be able to forge him a new sword that was as good or better than this one. But that didn’t matter because this was his sword, the one that had literally seen him through life and death, the only constant in all of his lives. He knew it by weight, by feel, by every design and rune incised in its surface. 

It stood out against the ice, a deep void black against the realm of winter. It was as much of a part of him as death was. It was his counter to Taekwoon and everything he stood for, it was what he wielded in the light.

He could see where the ice became drastically thinner away from Hakyeon’s influence and apparently the weight of his sword was the proverbial straw to break the camel’s back. The ice cracked and his sword plummeted into the eerily still waters, deep enough to hide their true depths. 

Jaehwan skidded to the edge of the ice, panting like he had just run a marathon, staring into the depths of the lake. The cries of the dead rang out behind him and from what seemed like hundreds of miles away, his father’s bane of a giant roared in anger, swiping at the sky. He stared blankly down, unable to comprehend that just like that, such a fundamental part of him had been lost to the dark water.

Three sets of heavy footsteps came running up behind him, but Jaehwan was still too shell shocked to think of an adequate response. With Hakyeon’s presence, the ice froze over the lake, forming a solid enough surface for none of them to fall to their deaths but Jaehwan could only think of the fact that it was gone, it was really gone and there was nothing he could do about it. 

The dead moved slower than the living, thankfully, and Hakyeon, Sanghyuk, and Taekwoon caught up to him with a good distance left between them and the horde. “We can’t keep fighting them forever,” Taekwoon said, trying to gulp in very large amounts of air without sounding like he was doing just that, “We need to defeat Alcyoneus, get Thanatos, and run.” 

“We would have done that a long time ago if we could,” said Sanghyuk, too wired to be polite, “Where are Wonsik and Hongbin?”

The sound of beating wings filled the air and darkness blotted out the far away sun. With the swiftness of a lightning strike and the decisiveness of death, Thanatos flew down, his iron scythe shattering through the ice like it was no more than melted butter. The ground lurched and the corpses screamed. The demigods were trapped on no more than a small island of ice but Taekwoon and Hakyeon worked quickly to push said island away from the dead and towards the other side of the lake as quickly as they could. 

“A giant can’t be defeated without the help of a god,” said Taekwoon, his words quick.

“We don’t even need to defeat him, we just need to escape,” Hakyeon said, looking back quickly to make sure they couldn’t be followed. Some of the corpses tried to jump for them but quickly met a floundering demise in the water. Jaehwan hoped that the dead didn’t learn how to swim. “We need to get out of here.” 

There was a high pitched whistle, then an explosion. The ice thudded not so gently against the rock of the land and the four of them scrambled onto solid ground, wordlessly rushing toward the explosion, following an airborne Thanatos making a beeline for Alcyoneus. 

Hongbin threw up force shields quicker than the eye could see while Wonsik detonated another bomb at the giant’s feet. They must have done quite a number on it because the giant barely looked like it came from precious stones and metals anymore — Wonsik had found a way to warp it into something closer resembling a giant robot instead of a godslayer.

Blood red stone chipped off its face, exposing a warped iron framework underneath.

“Lure the giant onto land,” Thanatos commanded, hovering at a wingspan reach from Alcyoneus, “The further away he gets from his territory, the weaker he is.” 

The giant stumbled and Jaehwan ran forward, grabbing Wonsik’s wrist and dragging him away. Hongbin made a mad dash, running alongside them. Alcyoneus’ guttural roar rang through the sky as a gruesome battle cry. 

Behind the giant, the lake rose as Hakyeon raised his arms, graceful and poised on the balls of his feet. The wall surged forward and the icy winds blew, sending shards of ice into the back of Alcyoneus. He cried out in rage, lunging forward in pursuit of the three demigods. 

Hongbin’s steps were faltering, falling heavy on the ice. His aura sagged with a heavy fatigue Jaehwan had rarely felt before. They charged on, ignoring the burning in their lungs. Their feet struck the land, cutting through the line of the forest. 

The heavy footsteps behind them skidded to a stop, sending a barrage of rocks, dirt, and ice in their direction. Hongbin threw up a shield at the last minute, barely saving them from the impact before the shield flickered away from view. 

Alcyoneus’ chest heaved as he stood up fully, realizing that he had been chased from his own territory and lured into a chase. 

“Stand down, it’s over,” said Taekwoon, not sounding nearly as out of breath as he should but he also looked like he was carried here by the wind. 

Jaehwan looked up at the giant through the trees, not quite trusting in their victory. The chunks of Alcyoneus that had broken off in the battle had started to reform but much slower than they had while they were on the lake. Its giant head swung around, with one and a half ruby red eyes, limbs and muscles chafing against each other. 

It scanned the loose circle the demigods had formed around him before finally meeting Jaehwan’s eyes. When he opened his mouth and spoke, his voice shook the earth to its core, like an earthquake manifested, “Son of Hades,” he said, “You should have been the first to die.”

Wonsik stood by his side and Jaehwan could feel his warmth as a shield against the bitter cold, “But you couldn’t. You’ve been beaten by— what? Six demigods? You’re supposed to be able to kill a god.”

Alcyoneus snarled, taking a threatening step toward Jaehwan, but a great gust of wind came forth, pushing him back.

“I was not beaten by six demigods,” Alcyoneus said and Jaehwan tensed when he recognized that tone, that cadence. It was the same pride he once heard in his father’s voice, a sudden relic from the past in the form of his enemy. His chest tightened, though he stood his ground. “Thanatos, show yourself, you bloody coward.”

Great wings rustled through the trees and there the god stood, perched precariously on a branch, his wings tucked behind him. His face remained unscarred, though his wings looked a little more haggard than usual and his white robe barely clung together. “I am the one to be labeled a coward when you and your army of shades ambushed me while I was at rest and chained me up in a place that barely has a claim of existence in the mortal realm?” His words flowed like a songbird’s melody. “What will you do when we send you back to Tartarus? Lie low in your pathetic existence for another millennium until you find a new master to play puppet for?”

“Gaea will restore this world to its rightful state. I was not made to grovel at the feet of the Olympians,” said Alcyoneus, “You think that by defeating me you will be able to stop Gaea? You believe yourselves too capable. Even if you succeed, you are too human to stop and recognize the true cost. You think that you can escape death forever? Before this ends, the best of you will die.” He paused, his gaze lingering, “That is a promise.” 

Jaehwan swallowed thickly but did not tear his gaze away. He could feel the eyes of his companions trained on him. He already knew this, it was written in fate, sealed by Hongbin’s visions. 

He turned slightly, to avoid Hongbin’s gaze. 

It wasn’t time for them to know. 

“A promise is never set in stone until it’s carried out,” Jaehwan pointed out, “I will not die.” 

He said it with so much conviction, it felt like a prophecy in and of itself. Just as he did today, Jaehwan would continue to make the choice to live every day in spite of the looming storm that chased him. 

Sanghyuk smiled at him, not quite a full one. But it was one with pride in his eyes. With that look, Jaehwan felt like he could live forever. 

Thanatos looked down at him with an unsurpassable expression, his golden eyes stabbing through Jaehwan’s veneer. But he only raised an eyebrow, choosing not to speak against what he must know. 

“The Son of Hades will not die today,” said Thanatos, “But you will.” 

He leapt down from the branch where he stood, wielding his scythe that was as tall as he stood. Thanatos wordlessly extended the scythe to Jaehwan.

Jaehwan blinked in surprise, hesitating, before Thanatos nodded in confirmation, pushing it toward him. 

He had never been beholden to a god’s weapon before. 

His hand curled around the scythe. Jaehwan gasped aloud, nearly shrinking back from it. 

The power coursed through him, numbing his arm and racing through his body and he felt like an overcharged battery, every atom in his body vibrating with untapped potential. It felt like it all should have killed him but — it didn’t. It grew then faded, filling every crevice in Jaehwan’s body, augmenting his already present strength as a Son of Hades and energizing the rest of him so that he felt like he was no longer a mortal. 

With the scythe in his hands, he felt like a god himself, transcending what he should be capable of. And yet, when everything rebalanced, Thanatos’ scythe held a familiar weight, a familiar swing and movement to it. With a pang, he realized that the weapon felt like his sword that he had just lost to the depths of the frozen lake. 

He could only imagine what he looked like to the rest of them, taking on an ethereal glow that was from neither this realm or the next. 

Jaehwan felt like he had grown at least ten feet in size, though nothing physically had changed. He felt like a presence big enough to look his father’s bane in the eye and defeat it. For once in his life, he felt like death had shrouded him in power instead of fear. 

Alcyoneus looked at him like he had just realized who Jaehwan really was. The son of his father who had escaped death time and time again, now imbued with the power of a god and possessing the strength to kill him. 

Jaehwan surged forward like his muscles possessed him, springing him forth at a speed faster than the world around him. For all of his strength, Alcyoneus could do nothing to fend off a being faster than the eye could follow. 

He swung out with the scythe, cutting at the giant’s Achilles’ heel. The stygian iron sliced through rock and metal and the giant fell to its knees. Jaehwan zipped around, hacking at its limbs with the sheer knowledge that he _could_. He didn’t know why he found pleasure in hearing the giant scream out as he decimated its body. He just knew that he did. 

When Jaehwan finally severed Alcyoneus’ head from his body, there was barely anything left of his torso for the giant’s head to cling onto. 

It rolled away, nearly crushing Hakyeon before it slammed into a tree. 

Jaehwan stood where the giant once stood, trembling with an overload of his senses. 

The clearing was strewn with an assortment of the giant’s body parts, drenched in the oil that Alcyoneus bled. He could only be glad that the giant was anthropomorphic only in its form because he wasn’t sure if he could stand the sight of a giant’s bleeding flesh laying around. 

Jaehwan realized, with a faraway thought, that this — this was the first victory they had accomplished that felt like theirs. This wasn’t just a battle won through luck scraped together to fight off an incoming threat. They had chosen to dive into the fray to free Thanatos and they had bested the bane of Hades to do so. 

Thanatos walked over with deliberate slowness and Jaehwan reluctantly handed the god his scythe. 

In a rush, the excess power was knocked from him as if someone stole all the breath from his lungs. It took him a moment to readjust back to his normal body, his senses dulling and his strength fading. 

“You are still your father’s son, Jaehwan,” said Thanatos and he winced. That tone didn’t sound exactly congratulatory. “It has been a very long time since we’ve met.”

Jaehwan hoped he didn’t sound meek when he said, “Yes.”

It was maddening how the god refused to show even a hint of emotion, “We have much to discuss. And I have even more to say to the rest of your friends.” Thanatos paused for a moment, scanning the terrain, “It has been a long journey for the six of you, it seems. And the monsters were relentless because I have not been manning the Doors of Death. Gaea has been hunting you with a ruthlessness that can only be borne of prophecy and the odds rise out of your favor with every passing day.” Across from Jaehwan, Taekwoon’s expression looked thoroughly unimpressed as if he was tempted to voice aloud the thought that they already knew all of this because they had been living it for the past several months. “I will meet you back in your Odyssey in the morning. I will recover there for no longer than a day then I will return to my duties, but I will provide you aid as you have done for me.” He gave Jaehwan a chiding look, “A god does not forget his debts but neither does he forgive them.”

Jaehwan inclined his head, lowering his eyes. Next to him, Taekwoon did the same on instinct as if they had both transported back in time and were holding council with a king. 

With that, Thanatos took his leave, vanishing in the air with smoke and black feathers.

Not even a footprint was left behind and with both god and giant gone, the reality of the cold weather struck Jaehwan with a fierceness that was previously negated by adrenaline. He shivered, feeling like he had just recovered from a particularly bad fever. 

But he was alive. He looked around and though they suffered from their own injuries and aches, they were all still alive. 

“Come on,” Hakyeon said, “Let’s go home.”

— 

The lights were turned down low and Sanghyuk’s self named “Netflix & Chill” playlist played softly through the speakers. But Jaehwan hadn’t quite been in the mood for any particular amorous activities so they ended up under the blankets on the couch, limbs tangled in any which way in a quiet sort of company that put Jaehwan’s heart at ease.

“You almost didn’t look human today,” murmured Sanghyuk half asleep, “Did you know that?”

“That was all Thanatos, not me,” Jaehwan deflected, “Almost made me wish I hadn’t given him back his scythe, though.” 

That woke Sanghyuk up again and he sat up a little straighter, readjusting the blanket and pulling it up higher, “I’m sorry about your sword,” he said, though Jaehwan didn’t quite know why he was apologizing for it, “Did you ever name your sword?”

“Uh, no, only kids and narcissists named their swords,” Jaehwan said, half jokingly before frowning a little, “Though, I think in retrospect, I probably should have.” 

“Why?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Because it was so important to me. But I always thought it was foolish to care about a sword so much,” he frowned, “Someone once told me that any good swordsman treats his sword like an extension of his arm.” He stopped himself before he could say something stupid about feeling like he had literally lost a part of himself, but in reality, it was as if he had. His history and his past was lost there, beneath the ice and Taekwoon’s own sword was left without its twin.

“What would you have named it?” asked Sanghyuk.

Jaehwan thought about it. He was sure that he once had a list of names as a child for what his legendary sword would be named when he blazed a path through history with his victories and tales. But that particular fantasy fell by the wayside. He knew that his sword was made of stygian iron and the dark of night was oftentimes the last thing his enemies would see but there was a certain childish hopefulness to him when he said, “Lightbringer.” He indulged himself by continuing, “It’s all I wanted to do in my first life. I thought I could be a hero and I could be good and kind and noble.” And he found that he liked the irony of the name, anyways.

“You should name your next sword then,” said Sanghyuk. 

Jaehwan pondered it, “I guess I should. But Taekwoon would probably laugh at me.” 

“We all laugh at you no matter what,” Sanghyuk said.

Jaehwan pouted a little, looking up at Sanghyuk, “You guys are all bullies.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re ridiculous,” he laughed, pushing Jaehwan away. “You know, you shouldn’t even get a new sword. Ask Thanatos if you can have his scythe. I bet he has like a thousand of them anyways and you look way better with it than he does.”

He chuckled, elbowing Sanghyuk softly, “Speaking of ridiculous…”

“You should though,” Sanghyuk said light-heartedly, “Take his scythe and rename it Lightbringer. Think of how good that will sound in the poems after we’ve saved the world or whatever.”

Jaehwan smiled, resting his head on Sanghyuk’s shoulder, pressing himself closer to him, thinking of a world in which they all triumphed, the six of them. And he was the last Son of Hades who used death’s scythe to save life in a world that accepted him. “I would like that,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -guess who's back...back again...atlas is back...tell a friend  
> -sorry i disappeared off the face of the earth then dropped a keo pwp and made it seem like i low key abandoned atlas because i didn't i've just had a really busy summer BUT LIKE ON THE BRIGHT SIDE I'VE REGAINED ALL MY MUSE FOR THIS STORY  
> -i can't promise a regular update schedule but im trying my best  
> -comments give me a reason to live but yelling at me on [twitter](twitter.com/jaehwandred) and leaving nice or mean messages in my [curiouscat inbox](https://curiouscat.me/jaehwandred) is nice too


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